Dragon by Night
by PA James
Summary: Lance Garron, a 16-year-old boy with the powers of a dragon, must break a centuries-long curse on his family line, but can he resist the temptations of his own literal inner dragon, reconnect with his long-lost brother and form something even resembling a normal relationship with a girl?
1. Prologue

In Celtic legend, there are tales of wonderment and heroics littered everywhere. This tale is of the Tuatha de Dannan. The court of the Seelie is a complexly woven arena for the competition for power among Faeries. The Seelie Court is how the Fae organize and rank themselves. The highest rank is the Queen and the position is held by Mab. Although she has been queen for all of human history, it is presumed that she became queen because she was the strongest Fae in existence. Below her is the Prime Counselor, a position of high esteem and usually a lot of power in the Fae realm.

In following with the power structure of the Seelie Court, the Fae often challenge their superiors. If a fae is victorious in the challenge, they inherit the power of their opponent, which is how Mab eventually became ruler over all the Fae. In the words of a famous wizard, you don't become queen of the Faeries by collecting bottle caps.

Faeries can and do attain a great amount and diversity of powers this way, dueling other fae and taking the spoils, as it were. Over centuries and eventually millennia, they loan favors to other faeries as well as to mortals. When it comes time to collect on a debt, they do so swiftly. As you can imagine, this can become quite cumbersome when only dealing with other faeries. In the process of dispersing and calling in markers, the Fae have found they can make the most of their advantages by involving humans. That is what happened in the Celtic tale of Sohlitaire.

In Ireland centuries past, there was an ancient fae whose true name has been lost to time, but she was called Travesty. Travesty was second in power only to Queen Mab, who ruled over the fae without mercy or weakness. That became all too dangerous when Travesty began plotting Mab's downfall. Travesty's plan was that she would trick Mab into weakening herself, and then Travesty would challenge her to a formal duel, which of course, she would win. Through that duel, she would formally have the rights to Mab's power and once won, Travesty would be the most powerful being in the universe.

Travesty had a human servant among the Fae; his name was Sohlitaire. According to the legend, Sohlitaire betrayed Travesty, double crossing her at risk to his own life. He exposed her own betrayal against Mab, and for that offense Mab banished her from the realm of the Fae, forbidding Travesty to cross over to either the fae world or the mortal one. Stuck in her own pocket dimension, she was infuriated with Sohl. As he fled to the mortal world, Travesty laid a curse upon him, binding him and the entirety of his bloodline to her. As long as she lived her half-life in her small, plain, white world, his descendants would be forced into servitude each generation.

He never found a way to lift the curse, and his line continued for millennia, all the way to this day.


	2. Chapter 1

The young man tapped his fingers on the arm of his lawn chair. He had set up his and the several others just like it atop his apartment building's roof. The seating arrangement was for his tentative teammates. The team up was pending, but they had all answered his newspaper ad and posted flyer campaign and promised to be there. Era City was a big place, even for the rolling Texas countryside, and no doubt it contained many 'special' teenagers, just like him.

Yes, the age of the super hero had arrived with full force. His super powers were nothing incredibly out of the ordinary; enhanced strength and flight were nothing new. He smiled as he thought of his other trademark, upon which he based his super hero alias. His ability to breathe fire had led him to name himself Dragon and if his team came together like he thought they would, they would call themselves the Titans.

His contemplative smile was the first sight to greet the first arrival, a girl in a white gi whose sleeves outstretched her arms, a black skirt, and a black ninja mask. She smiled back underneath her mask as she fell from the sky, appearing suddenly from where a black hawk had just been in mid-flight. Her heels touched down on the roof with a solid, wooden clack as her elevated sandals met the asphalt of the roof.

The boy rose to greet her, maintaining his warm and welcoming smile. Her eyes scanned over his bulky arms, left uncovered by the black tank top he wore. The shirt was tight, and it showed off his Mr. Universe pecs and abs. The dark jeans were a different story; baggy with lots of give, they hid his legs and feet.

"Greetings," he said, offering her his hand. "Kit, I presume. My name is Lance, otherwise known as Dragon, and you're the first recruit into the Titans."

Kit clasped his hand, in the loosest sense of the word, and shook it mildly. "Nice to meet you, Dragon-san." Her shy temperament showed up and her cheeks shone red over the top of the mask that hid her nose, mouth and chin. After the handshake, she returned the greeting with a formal Japanese-style bow at the waist. She was far more comfortable with her home customs to forgo them.

His eyebrows rose in pleased surprise. To her bemusement, he followed suit, clasping both his hands before him and bending at the waist. "Likewise, Kitsu-san," he waved one hand toward the quintuple set of cheap lawn chairs. "Please, have a seat and we'll wait for the others to arrive."

Kit politely accepted his offer of a chair nearby and they sat together. "When shall our teammates arrive?" she asked.

"You can never tell. The universe conspires well enough against punctuality wherever regular teenagers are involved, let alone five super-powered ones," he said, smiling more to himself than anything.

Her laugh was soft, but audible, even through her mask and across the five or so feet that separated them. "I see," she said. She felt at ease for the first time since she had come to the United States. Amazing how good a simple thing like exchanging pleasantries could feel after...well, she wouldn't think about that right now."What shall we do until then?"

"Well, you know a little about my powers, would you like to see a demonstration of all my abilities?"

Her nod said it all. "I'd like that."

"Well, alright, then!" he exclaimed congenially, rising from his seat. He braced his shoulder with one hand while he swung the other arm around, as if to stretch it out. He strode quickly over to a heavy wooden crate and with one arm, hefted the entire thing up in the air with no visible effort. Then, crate still overhead, he bunny-hopped into the air and stayed there, levitating with no strain. Not stopping there, he shot her a confident grin, and tossed the crate up. He opened his mouth and literal fire coned out of it in a breath, incinerating the wood and leaving ashes to fall to the roof. "Ta-da!" he said, holding out both arms.

Kit clapped politely. "Very good, may I give things a go?"

Dragon resumed his seat, saying, "Of course, by all means."

She strode out to the stage he had set and reached one hand out at the ledge of the roof, where a potted plant sat. She made a motion with her fingers, and the single flower shot upwards, as if being forced out of the soil by what was growing underneath it. As it grew, it branched out into vines that stretched towards Kit, as if beckoned to her. Then, in a blur, Kit produced a flat, silver knife from her wide sleeve and the next thing Dragon knew, the knife was protruding from the plant's thick stem. He blinked at the spectacle; he hadn't even seen the throw!

Kit turned toward him to retake her seat. "I believe you've already seen my ability to shape shift." Dragon nodded his eyes still wide. She sat with him again, and couldn't meet his eyes. The way he was staring made it far too uncomfortable. She kicked herself for showing off. If she wouldn't make a sight of herself and her powers, he wouldn't look at her in that way. Her embarrassment peaked with more coloration at her cheeks. Dragon dimly noticed and turned his gaze away to stare awkwardly at the ground.

"Seems a fine enough time to make my entrance," said a young man's voice. Both teens shot their stares to the figure standing self-confidently on the brick storage shed. The boy was not tall and had wheat-colored hair that fell to below his shoulder blade paired with ocean-blue eyes. His gentle facial features were at odds with the way he used them to display his expression of bemused condescension. To go along with the cynical look he gave the other two teens, he wore a dark trench coat over a grey Under-Armor tee and black khaki cargo pants. "It'll spare the awkward romantic silences in favor of awkward familial silences."

The sandy-blond headed boy and his romance novel cover model tresses descended adeptly to the rooftop level with Dragon and Kit. Dragon immediately stood, the motion so hurried and clumsy that his chair folded in on itself, laying flat on the asphalt surface. Dragon's emerald eyes locked with the other boy's sapphires and for a moment, neither boy moved. Kit rose hesitantly, unsure of whether she should have to come between them or not. As it turned out, she didn't.

"Dani," Dragon breathed, the sound barely audible. "You really are alive. I can't believe this, they thought you were dead!"

Dani smirked at the other boy. "They always seem to assume what isn't true in my case, don't they?"

"Dragon, do you know him?" Kit asked, still reluctant to come between them.

"That would be the understatement of the year," Dani interjected. "I'm his brother."

Both Kit and Dani stared at the motionless Dragon, waiting for some sort of reaction, any reaction. Without warning, Dragon gave it to them. He rushed forward to hug his long-lost brother. Dani's wide eyes were almost comical as he threw out one hand to stop his brother and like that, Dragon suddenly hit a barrier and bounced away from Dani just a hair's breadth before making actual physical contact.

Dragon sat on the ground, dazed for a moment. "Whoa, what was that?" he asked.

Dani reclaimed his composure and brushed at his coat, as if it were dusty. "That was my kinetic powers, preventing an unwanted assault. For future reference, a handshake will do fine, brother mine," he said harshly.

Kit stared at the two polar opposites. How could any two people who were related to each other be so at odds? As the thought crossed her mind, she caught a motion out of the corner of her eye. She turned her head to see two more personages amid a cloud of tan mist touch down on the roof, the fog seeming to have carried them there. No, she thought, that wasn't mist or fog, that was...dirt, perhaps sand? It seemed she had finally caught sight of what West Texans called a 'dirt devil'.

The two people strode forward out of the sand-mist, one was a boy in dark slacks and a honest-to-goodness chain mail shirt with hair of dark brown, nearing black. His hair fell like a curtain to hide one of his eyes, which were colored the teal of the ocean. A thin goatee covered his chin, which he dipped to look over the other occupants of the rooftop with a not-quite skin-crawling gaze.

The other person was a girl in a punk-skater outfit complete with platform boots, white stockings showing over the tops, a checkered belt around her lavender sun dress and white gloves. The flying sediment settled to the rooftop and to Kit, it looked like the energy animating it recessed into the boy. She stepped forward, her wide eyes filled with milk-white cataracts. Feeling everyone's eyes on her, she turned scarlet with self-consciousness and abruptly found herself clutching the hem of her dress, playing over the fabric with her fingers.

The boy she arrived with looked uncomfortable on her behalf. He hesitated before he drew up even with her, as if he were unsure of whether he should. "Oi!" he exclaimed. "Is this where the lass and I can join the superhero group?" he asked with more than a hint of a Scotsman's burr in his voice.

Cataracts not seeming to hamper her sense of direction, the girl looked towards Dragon, still seated, and spoke in quiet voice. "Ar-" she hesitated before speaking again. "Excuse me, but are you Dragon?"

Dragon seemed to come to attention then, rising to his feet and facing the fourth and fifth teens. "Yes, this is the right place, but my friends call me Lance." He shook each teen's hand in turn, then reached his arm behind him to indicate his other teammates. "Welcome to the team; would you two care to introduce yourselves?"

"Aye," the boy said. "I'm Shawn, but call me Dust. I didn't get the lasses name," he said, jerking one thumb toward the delicate-looking girl.

"I'm Petra Reedman, Mr. Lance. I go by Pharis," she told him, as she cast an eerie look around, given her apparent blindness.

"Welcome, Dust and Pharis. I'm Dragon," Lance said, indicating himself with a gesture of one hand. "She's known as Wild Child, and that over there is...Dani."

Dani's snide look unsettled Dragon. "That's Psyche to all of you. And just to put it out there, I had that name long before the USA network ever did."

Petra looked slightly unsettled by his unwelcoming stare. Dust cocked one eyebrow and gave Lance an inquisitive look. "Oi, not to state the obvious, but...he's not very friendly is he?"

Dragon pursed his lips in thought. "He and I have...family issues. I'll talk to him about it later, but for now, Titans, let's just get to-"

Without any sign of warning, a thunderbolt cracked through the atmosphere nearby. All five Titans jerked their heads towards the sound and saw a very unnatural looking pure white bolt of electricity.

"That doesn't look good," Petra commented. As she said it, lavender colored energy grew like a leaf from her back to form plasmic wings. The same color energy emerged around her eyes, covering her face like sunglasses.

"That it doesn't," Dani agreed, furrowing his brow, showing something other than self-assured cockiness for the first time that day. Petra flinched when he spoke, as if surprised someone had heard her. "There could be some badness going down."

"Titans," Dragon commanded, pointing in the direction of the dangerous looking bolt, already levitating in the air. "Let's go!"


	3. Chapter 2

The Titans launched into action, those who were able to fly took off into the sky. Those like Dani, who relied on alternate means to get by, had to get places the old fashioned way. So, while the other four took flight, Dani vaulted over the lip of the roof and planted his feet firmly upon the brick siding. Building a kinetic blast beneath them, he vaulted off like a swimmer off the starting line. Soaring across open air, he landed atop a corresponding roof. Lifting cyan eyes to the sky where his teammates were making progress over him, his mouth tightened into a stubborn line.

Sprinting forward again, he repeated the process of roof jumping, sometimes vaulting off the edge before dropping to it, bounding over the vast spaces between buildings. Lance, far ahead of him, seemed to halt in midair, apparently spying their target. So the threat was close, whatever it was. That was good for him, at least. Panting, Dani landed on the edge of the the roof his brother hovered over. He lifted his eyes to follow the other Titans's gaze.

A skinny girl with dark hair waving down her back knelt before a security panel and raised her fist to the sky and another bolt like the one they had just seen crashed down into her hand and she placed her hand over the panel. Electricity sparked through the air as she delivered another shock to the panel. Next to her, the door the panel apparently controlled seemed to unlock and it swung open a few inches.

"Hold it right there, lady!" Lance shouted as he floated down to the roof, where he stood between the girl and the Titans.

The girl spun, her eyes, equally as dark as her hair, locking onto Dragon. She clutched the satchel slung over her shoulder to her side and without saying anything, she bolted through the door into the dark building below them.

The Titans sprang into action after her, Dragon's fists blazing to light in orange flames as the fireballs surrounded his fists but didn't touch them. He stopped at the door, casting the meek light offered by his flames into the darkness beneath them.

"Oi, wha' is this place?" Dust asked.

"Museum," Dragon answered quickly. "This will be tricky, my fire will only shine so far for us to maneuver."

"Dragon," Pharis meekly inquired. "I can still see her aura. If that helps."

Raising an eyebrow over his emerald eyes, he looked over his shoulder at her. "Can you keep us pointed in the right direction?"

"I can try," she said, the pressure of his request making her voice shake unsteadily. She swept her gaze over the building beneath them. "She's moving fast and getting farther away, maybe down some stairs."

Dragon nodded, and turned back to the empty doorway. "Then we've got to move faster. Titans, on me!" he commanded.

Forging down the dark stairwell, their eyes adapted to the darkness quickly. Turning a corner at the landing, more steps down waited for them. Dragon, holding his lit hands up, carefully stepped down them.

"She must be down on the show-floor now," Pharis reported in a whisper.

"Good, it's wide open space; we'll have plenty of room to surround her," Dragon replied, also whispering.

The floor met his feet a second later, the cramped stairwell giving way to a wide open show room. Moonlight beamed in the high windows, bathing the grand tile floor in it's blue-white light. Looking over his shoulder at the Titans again, Dragon said, "Alright, Titans, when we get to her, surround her. Give her nowhere to run. Pharis, which direction do we go?"

Pharis, still on her track, pointed off to the right. "There. She's moving up again."

Dragon grinned. "Excellent. Let's move!" Dragon lifted off and darted towards the great archway where Pharis had pointed. As he soared towards her, Dragon scanned below him for sight of her. Just inside the arch way, two staircases rose in a circular pattern on either side of the room and led up to a balcony doorway into another exhibit. Behind them were the larger pieces of art, in here, the cases were smaller and the artifacts inside them were ancient. With the Titans at his back, Dragon charged along the ground after where the girl had been sighted.

"Dragon!" Pharis' small voice lashed out. "Behind you!"

Dragon turned, but wasn't fast enough. The dark-haired girl's fist hit his jaw fast enough to send him back a couple of steps. The left side of his jaw began to throb quietly. The punch had been strong, moderately speaking, but she had hit him on the flat of his face rather than at an angle.

Kit the Wild Child appeared out of shadows, her white gi shining in the little moonlight that had made it this far back in the museum. She had drawn a kunai knife out of one of the sleeves, but it seemed her visibility gave her the disadvantage. The girl saw her coming and lashed out at her this time.

Only now, the girl hit with some of the lightning she had harnessed. Blue electricity cracked through the air and hit her in the shoulder, sending her kunai twirling away as her arms flailed about. "No!" Dragon cried out. Wild Child limply dropped to the floor and rage for his teammate blazed into his chest. He wound his arm back, as if he were holding a baseball and let rip with a fastball, only this ball was made of the fire that had been surrounding his right hand. The fireball hurtled through the air and the dark-eyed girl hadn't expected that. The fire caught onto her peasant blouse and the force of it hit her shoulder and she stumbled forward.

In a flash of wheat-colored hair, Psyche appeared from between two of the display cases and took advantage of the time Dragon's attack had bought. He timed his steps and just as he came within fist range of the girl, he jumped up into the air. Landing on her back, he unleashed kinetic energy underneath him, forcing her to the ground.

Dust charged in from the opposite side Psyche had entered from and as he ran, he shouted a word into the display hall. "Bind!" he cried, his hands out before him as sandy-colored mist surrounded his hands, the way Dragon's had with the fire. Suddenly, around the girl's ankles and wrists formed bonds of the same brown mist that cinched tight, forcing her limbs to constrict in the uncomfortable way that handcuffs do. Dani, having slid off of her, stood examining her for injuries.

"You're not hurt, are you?" he asked, his tone cool and distant.

"Let me go!" the girl snarled, lifting her head to defy him.

He raised an eyebrow. "Fat chance."

Dragon crossed between the three of them and knelt beside Wild Child, across from Pharis, who had gotten there first. "Is she ok?" he asked.

"I can't see, Dragon," she reminded him. His green eyes darted up to meet her white ones and he felt himself blushing deep red. She continued, unaware of his facial expression. "Her aura is still strong. She's not seriously harmed."

"I'm ok," Wild's voice reached up to them. "Her lightning hit me like a tazer."

"I swear, as soon as I get free, I'll wound you all!" the intruder said defiantly, looking around at each of them.

"Just what were you intending to do here?" Dragon asked, rising from beside his fallen comrade. "You have to know all of these artifacts have more security than just their glass cases. Why risk it?"

"You would never be able to understand!" she growled. Her face rose to his, from her prostrate position on the floor. He knelt in front of her, lifting her swiftly by her blouse, the scorched shoulder of which tore further.

He met her haunting eyes with his and matched her fury. "You tried to harm my teammates. That does not sit well with me," he said with a unmerciful tone.

At those words, something under her tough exterior faltered for just a moment and Dragon swore he saw not fear, but a kind of recognition go across her eyes. The sudden intimacy shocked Dragon and he lowered her to the ground. She laughed eerily up at him.

"What?" Psyche inquired. Turning with concern to his brother, he uncrossed and lowered his arms. "What is it, Dragon?"

"Uh.." he stuttered. The wail of sirens approached from the main doors of the museum.

"Perhaps we shouldn't be here when the police arrive," Psyche suggested.

Dragon shook his head. "No. We're not vigilantes. We aren't going to run," he stated clearly. "We're going to work with them and give them time to realize we're the good guys."

An hour later, the Titans sat impatiently in handcuffs while the museum building was flooded with forensic analysts, police officers and museum staff.

"My wrists are starting to hurt," Dust growled.

Dragon forced his expression and tone to be serene. Well, as serene as possible under the circumstances. "Be patient. I've already explained to the officers that we're the good guys. The evidence will support that." At least, I hope it does, he thought.

An older officer in a nice suit with salt-and-pepper hair, with a badge at his waist instead of on his chest strode up to the cops guarding the Titans. "Forensics say all the prints they found match the girl these kids were guarding when we arrived. The security tape the museum curator handed over supports their story," he said, motioning to the Titans seated on the concrete in a line.

"So, do I need to let them go, Lieutenant Mulcagey?" the young, skinny officer asked.

"Nothing to charge them with. The breaking was committed by the girl and they only entered after she did. It seems these kids are the hero type," Mulcagey said, looking down at the Titans. His voice was smooth and deep, and a low rumble emitted from his chest when he spoke.

"Thank you, Liutenant Mulcagey," Lance said, rising as the officers on duty began to unlock their handcuffs.

"Don't go thanking me. I haven't done you any favors," Mulcagey warned. "The police chief does not like vigilante-types. He might still have you all arrested after he finds out about this in the morning."

"Say what?" Dani exclaimed. "We're the good guys!"

"Relax," he said, motiong downward with his palm. "My daughter is in school with the commissioner's kid. I'll inform him in the morning that you actually prevented any crimes from being committed and without causing any damage," he said, his tone clearly impressed. "With luck, he'll be able to keep the chief from blowing any gaskets in your direction."

Lance nodded. "I would appreciate that, Lieutenant. Anything else before we leave?"

The old cop twisted his mouth to one side in though, making his mustache bunch oddly. "Yeah. Thank you. This could have turned out a lot worse, but it didn't, because of you," he said, almost accusingly.

The Titans shared a smile. "It's what we're here to do."

Mulcagey nodded. "Your little group have a name?" he asked bemusedly.

"Call us the Titans."


	4. Chapter 3

"How long have you been having these chest pains?" the doctor asked, her concerned blue eyes resting over Lance.

"For as long as I can remember," he replied. "But this morning was different. These twinges, they haven't ever hurt enough to bring me to my knees before, but when I woke up...I could hardly move."

She nodded, reaching into her white coat to draw out a pen and began writing upon the papers her clipboard contained. Lance remained silent for a moment.

"Lance, the records we have of you indicate your parents are deceased, is that correct?"

He didn't even blink. "That's right, Dr. Adams."

"You're a ward of the state, then?" she asked, raising her eyes and one of her eyebrows with it.

Lance shook his head. "No, I'm emancipated. I'm legally recognized as an adult. I felt like I should come to you because you're my pediatrician. I think you'll be able to help me the best out of anyone."

She nodded knowingly. "I'm glad you feel safe with us. Can I simply be frank with you?"

"Of course. I'd prefer it, actually."

Adams paused for a moment to remove her glasses and looked up at Lance again from her seat on her stool while he sat high on the examining bed. "You've got a special heart condition. When you were very little, we noticed your heart was just a little larger than normal. It didn't present any threat to you at the time and so I'm guessing your parents kept it a secret."

Lance grew apprehensive. "Does that mean it's a threat to me now?" He unconsciously leaned forward on the table.

"It might be so," she continued. "Your heart's abnormality can, when combined with stress, cause your heart muscle to tear."

"Tear? Doc, is my heart going to burst on me?"

She shook her head confidently. "No, the heart is like any other part of the body, when it's damaged, the body will try to repair it. Unfortunately, when the muscle heals, it's scar tissue keeps it from functioning correctly. Eventually, if enough damage occurs to the heart, it can fail."

Lance's emerald eyes widened. "Doc, are you saying I'm going to die?" He reached up and placed his hand on his chest, just to the left of his sternum.

"It's impossible to say, at this point. There's no way for us to know what will and won't damage your heart. It is safe to say that the more damage it incurs, the harder it will be for it to pump your blood. Cardiac arrest is a possibility by that point."

Lance rocked back on his seat at that. Staring up at the ceiling, he grappled with the weight of that. Dr. Adams continued to fill him in on prescriptions that might help prolong his life, but the tone of her words was undeniable. Lance could die. He nodded along when she suggested certain treatments and he kept his eyes on the ceiling when she left.

Lance wasn't afraid of death itself, as a concept. He knew everyone eventually died, and he knew that he too, would die. But, when faced with the idea that his passing might be very soon, he suddenly became very afraid.

Fear tore through him as he envisioned his brother living on in a world without him. He saw Dani, standing over a fresh grave next to their parents' in the cemetery. He saw a figure emerge from the dark graveyard and loom over Dani in his state of grief. It's fingers ended in long nails that resembled claws as it reached toward him. Alone, with no one to aid him, Dani stood no chance. The person took him and disappeared. But together, he and his brother could work together to stop her.

Logic hit him as it strung out facts for him. His heart condition might kill him sometime in the near future. That meant that in order to achieve his goals, he had to work fast. If he was risking his life every time he went into battle with the Titans, then he didn't have any time to lose. Every moment was precious.

Of course, if he wasn't careful, that meant that if he made the wrong step or underestimated even one situation, he might not come out of it again. He would need to be careful. He had his goals and his dreams, but dying was not part of those plans. There would be no sense in throwing away his life.

_So, if I'm going to die, I may as well make my life count for something_, he thought coldly. _I won't let her take him. Before I die, I will make good and sure she is dead. _Lance clenched his fists tightly at his sides.

Dr. Adams returned with some prescriptions that was supposed to keep his blood pressure low, as well as some relaxants, if he needed them. Lance thanked the good doctor for her help and flew away from the pediatrician's office while deep in thought. He stopped briefly at the drug store to fill his prescriptions and thought about the girl they had stopped at the museum.

What had she been there to steal? Why had she seemed to know something he didn't? What made her different?

There was no better way to find out, he realized. It was time to pay her a visit.

The Titans finally learned the girls' name.

"Serenity Segeal," the cop on duty said. "You have visitors." The Titans stood on the other side of the glass and each of them watched her warily.

She took a seat at the booth and picked up the receiver. Dragon did the same. "Serenity," he said. "Nice to have a name to put with the face."

"Ah, but you haven't graced me with the pleasure of your names, yet," she purred, her eyes on Dragon's.

"I am Dragon," he stated simply. "This is my team, Psyche, Pharis, Wild Child and Dust."

Her lips curled up into a smirk. "A super team? How quaint."

"Y'know, I'm more interested in you," Dragon said, unfazed. "Just what were you attempting to steal from the museum last night?"

"I told you last night you could never understand," she reminded him.

"But that doesn't quell my curiosity at all. You had to be after something quite valuable to risk being so conspicuous," he accused.

"Nonsense," she retorted. "The Era City museum has no shortage of valuables that would fetch a high price with any dealers."

"Cut the crap," he said so suddenly and fiercely that even she jumped. He pinned her under his gaze. "I read your arrest record. You're nothing but a petty thief with a long history of shoplifting and pick-pocketing. You like easy targets. Maybe they're trusting old folks or a distracted shop-owner, but there's always a weakness you exploit. But I can't think of a more difficult burglary target than the museum. So, I'll ask you again. What on earth were you hoping to steal?"

Serenity's dark eyes turned spiteful as she endured Dragon's tirade, but at his last question, her expression suddenly changed again, just like it had at the museum. As they shared a gaze, Dragon saw her genuinely at a loss for words. Then, in a flash, her defiance was back again.

"This conversation is over," she said.

Dragon turned to look inquisitively at the cop behind him, who nodded his head. "Have it your way," Dragon said, turning back to her. "But rest assured. I'm going to find out what makes the museum so important. When I do, you can count on your life becoming a whole lot harder." He hung up the phone quickly and rose to leave.

The Titans followed him out to the lobby where Lieutenant Mulcagey was waiting. He sat in front of a TV that showed the visitor's center the Titans had just vacated.

"Did you catch all of that?" Dragon asked.

Mulcagey nodded, taking a bite out of a white-frosted donut. "You caught her off guard with that question," he noted.

"Yeah, but I'm not sure that even she knows why she was there."

Mulcagey seemed to consider that for a moment. "Perhaps. Or maybe there's something we're missing."

"Maybe," Dragon agreed. "You going to keep an eye on the museum?"

Mulcagey's mustache twisted into a grin. "If only I had thought of that last night," he said. "Perhaps I would have already set two of my men to investigating the origins of all the museum's pieces."

Dragon let himself burst into laughter. "You'll keep me updated, then?"

"Sure thing, kid. I have your number," Mulcagey said.

"Thank you," Dragon nodded to the older man. "Titans, let's hit the road."

As they cleared the doors of the police station, Psyche took stride in line with Dragon. "The cop isn't telling us everything."

Dragon nodded. "I know, but this is the road we're on. We have to see it through. He's a good man, we should trust him."

"So that's it? We're just going to leave it at that?" Psyche asked, appalled at the idea.

Dragon's lips stretched into a wide smirk. "Well, I never said that."


	5. Chapter 4

The Titans went home. Lance lead the way, contemplating their next move on the museum case. He definitely felt there was something important to that angle, but he couldn't pin it down as anything but a nagging intuition.

Once the five teenagers were through the door, Dani made a beeline for his room, the middle of the three boys' rooms. Lance hadn't intended for there to be an occupant of the room between he and Shawn, but he hadn't known Dani was coming home. So, they had made the most of the spare room to suit Dani's tastes.

To his credit, Dani was easy to shop for; he liked simple things. The desk, chair, bed and dresser were all plain wood, without the fancy carvings that elaborated every other Titan's furniture. So, he retired to his simple room, without another word spoken.

Lance noticed his withdrawn behavior, but hesitated to pursue him. Had he angered his brother and not known it? He doubted it. It was not like Dani to be easily offended, whatever else might be said about him. Then what could it be? He would have to find out the only way he knew how.

He gave Dani a few minutes, then went to his door, which he found open and knocked on three times, holding the can of soda he'd just nabbed from the kitchen. He waited for his brother's reaction while he cracked it open and took a swig.

Dani sat at his plain desk, the only thing adorning it was his laptop, which was open and Dani was typing away furiously on it. He had his earbuds in and was apparently listening to some heavy metal. Lance took another sip while Dani didn't react. After a few minutes, Dani finally looked up at him with those ice-blue eyes.

"Yes?" he said, plainly and without inflection.

"You, uh, you're acting weird," Lance told him. He took another drink.

"Okay?" Dani left the word like a question, as if urging his brother to get to his point.

"Is something bothering you?" Lance asked.

The question hung in the air, as Dani froze in place. He looked away from his brother to the screen of his laptop before answering. "What do you mean?" he asked quickly.

Lance shrugged. "I don't know. You seem..." he searched for the right word. "Distracted."

Dani shrugged noncommittally. He didn't say anything to fill the silence and Lance hesitated before he spoke again.

"What are you working on there?" he asked, pointing at Dani's laptop computer.

"I'm searching for public records of the museum's purchases. If I can find anything that's notable, we might have a lead," Dani explained.

Lance nodded, pleased that the work talk was getting him somewhere. "What about the girl, Serenity Segeal? Anything you can find on her?"

Dani spun in his chair to face Lance. "Nothing that's public. No articles in newspapers or public records. I can't find a trace of her online."

"Then we'll start with the museum itself. We should make some time to go over there and see what was in that hall we caught her in," Lance said.

"Good idea." Dani nodded.

It got quiet again and Lance tried the personal angle again. "You sure you don't want to talk about anything?"

"I'm sure," he answered, coldly. Lance winced at his tone.

"Alright," he said, withdrawing. "I'll check with the others."

"You do that," Dani told him, returning to his work once again. "I'll let you know if anything turns up."

Lance turned away from Dani's doorway, dejected. It hurt that his brother was all business with him, as if he didn't trust him anymore. He remembered how Dani had held him at bay with his kinetic powers the day before. His twin was no longer the best friend he'd had in childhood.

Then again, Lance remembered, Dani had always been a little solitary in nature. He had spent plenty of time playing with Lance, but he also had loved puzzles and books, which were things Lance had never taken an interest in, which hadn't bothered him then. Daniel Garron, while being his twin, was also Lance's opposite.

Maybe it's just too much too soon, Lance imagined. I only just reunited with him yesterday and it's been three years since we got split up. Yeah, that seemed right. It had taken time to form the bond that existed between them, so if it had been disrupted, wouldn't it need time to rebuild?

If Dani needed time, Lance would have to give it to him; he was his twin brother, after all. Lance smiled at that thought. There was still hope. They would be their old selves in no time, he thought.

Kit had never seen such luxury before she had entered the penthouse. Sure, her family had a nice-if small-home in the suburbs of a mid-sized Texas city, but it had never been as nice as Lance's home. She turned around her room and placed a hand on each the dresser and foot post of the bed, both hand-carved smooth oak. The wood was steady and firm, like Lance himself, she thought.

She pictured the handsome young man who had welcomed them into his home and given them the tour. Only Dani had been anything less than completely impressed, but that was understandable given they came from the same family. The brothers were so different, she thought. One was kind, noble and open and the other was cold, calculating and distant. Perhaps that was why they had grown apart.

From what Kit understood, they had not had contact with each other for the past several years, and it seemed that Lance had been shocked at their first meeting to find that Dani was alive. Maybe something had happened to cause a falling out. Kit knew well enough what growing apart from your family was like. It must be hard for both of them.

When Lance had been showing them around the apartment, pointing to the rooms he had arranged and picked for each of them, Dani hadn't looked too thrilled to enter his room. He had just stood in the doorway and the look on Lance's face was pained when he saw his brother's hesitance. Kit felt that she really should go comfort him. But he hardly knows me yet, what if he won't listen? Or worse, she imagined he would become angry with her like he had at the witch girl, Serenity.

Kit didn't think she could bear that kind of thing. Still, I have to do something. She opened her bedroom door and stepped out onto the hardwood floor. She took only a few steps towards Lance's bedroom door when she saw him standing out on the balcony, leaning on the rail with his arms, his back to her.

As she stopped to watch him, movement in her peripheral vision caught her attention. She turned to peer into Petra's doorway. Petra, who looked to be in the middle of getting acquainted with the layout of her room, looked up suddenly, her white irises meeting Kit's golden ones. A small smile came to her lips as she brushed platinum-lavender hair behind her air. "Hello, Kit."

Kit stood still in surprise as she watched Petra carefully. "Hello," she answered, weakly. "How...did you...?" she asked, trailing off as she lost the grip on her question. Surely, Petra hadn't actually seen her; she was blind. But, Kit reminded herself, she had also spied out Serenity for them, acting as their eyes in the dark museum, so she had to have some way to see.

"See you?" Petra finished. Kit didn't reply. "It's easy. I can see everyone on the team. Well, in my own way, I suppose."

That interested Kit enough to side-track her. "You can? Really?" she asked, stepping into Petra's room. She was trepidatious about being so familiar with her, but Petra was a nice person, and she probably wouldn't reject her. So, she let her curiosity drive her legs across the carpet.

Petra waved her hand at her bed, indicating Kit could sit next to her. "Yes. Mostly it's just using my aura to see theirs. It's a power I have, but I've been using it for so long that I don't really have to think about it. If someone has a strong aura, like those of us in the Titans, I just naturally pick up on it. And each aura has a color."

Kit sat, transfixed on Petra's every word. "Ooh," she said, getting excited. "What color is mine?"

Petra stared hard at Kit for a second and replied, "You are a bright golden, Kitsu."

"Cool," she said, amazed. "What about the others?"

Petra was quiet for a few seconds, as if recalling each memory of color. "Lance is bright red, Dani is light celadon, and Shawn..." His name hung in the air as Petra stared at the wall, as if looking through it at him.

"And Shawn?" Kit prompted her.

Shaking herself visibly, Petra replied, "Shawn is a burnt orange. It really is a lovely color."

Kit looked at the wall where Petra stared, but she couldn't see through it like Petra could. Kit thought it meant something significant, but she decided she shouldn't press Petra over it. She slipped away while Petra was distracted and ventured out toward the balcony.

The sudden sound of the opening of the sliding-glass door made Lance's well-defined muscles tense up. He cast a look over his shoulder at her and Kit saw him relax and turn back. She stood next to him and joined his vista. "It's beautiful," she said as they looked out over the city.

"Yes, it is," he answered simply. "On a clear night, you can see all the way to the Gulf of Mexico from here. We're not far from the coast." She listened to the wonder in his voice and realized he was speaking of the city the way others might about their family.

"You love this city, don't you?" she asked. He didn't answer her.

Instead, he said, "Do you want to go up to the roof to get some air?" But rather than wait for her response, he floated out over the railing and beckoned her along. She couldn't disappoint him. She shifted her gi-clad, sandaled body into that of her hawk form and flew out past Lance before circling back and beelining for the rooftop.

He settled himself down on the lip of the roof, his legs dangling out over the drop. Kit returned to her human form and sat next to him, in the same way. "You seem to have a lot on your mind. Would you like to talk about it...with a friend?" she asked.

"I wouldn't know what to talk about," he answered.

Kit didn't know what to say to that. He wasn't acting at all the way she thought he would. So, she just shrugged and went back to watching over the city. After a moment, she suggested, "Maybe it will be ok just to sit together and breathe the fresh air."

His distant manner turned warm suddenly as he let a smile move across his mouth. Knowing he was smiling because of her, Kit's heart thumped wildly in her chest. Soft wind rustled his brown hair and her long, white hair as they shared the comfortable silence.

She didn't know why she was feeling so weird, but she liked the thrill of the emotion. Here, in the nocturnal quiet of the rooftop, she was content with her life, for the first time in a while.

She thought about how both Lance and Petra seemed to enjoy her company. That felt like a good sign of the things to come. But for now, she breathed deeply from the fresh-blowing night air and enjoyed the presence of a friend.


	6. Chapter 5

Two opposite groups in a small neighborhood, wearing the obligatory opposing primary colors, tensed up as the leaders of each prepared for a fight. Hidden underneath baggy clothes were varied weapons, including several guns. The Titans watched from higher up.

Dragon nodded to Psyche, who nodded back and charged to the next rooftop, circling around. Wild Child circled high up over them and Dust and Pharis were already in position across the street. On Dragon's orders, Psyche, Pharis and Dust were going to swoop in from each of the cardinal directions and Wild Child was going to corral any would-be escapers. Dragon had just alerted the police to the situation by phone, and the desk sergeant at dispatch agreed they would send a car to investigate, so the Titans would prevent violence from occuring while the cops were en-route.

As the thugs below began the shoving match, Dragon whistled the signal with two fingers in his mouth. The other Titans swept into action and Dragon descended with them. One of the boys of the red-colored gang produced a handgun and Dragon made him his first target.

He landed hard with a loud sound on the shoulder of the boy holding the gun. The firearm spun across pavement while he let out a loud sound of pain. "Son of a-!" he exclaimed, the wind driven out of him. The other three thugs within a few feet of him spun in surprise to see the Titan and also reached for weapons. Dragon grinned while one eyebrow raised up. He lit up one of his hands with fire and the teens suddenly hesitated.

"Good idea," he commented. "Put down your weapons. There's no need for this to turn into something ugly."

One of the boys, a white boy with a nice coat and scraggly brown hair protested. "Hey, Emanuel's just defending his honor, y'know? His pride."

"That may be, but this is neighborhood filled with kids, man. You can't start something here where they could be hurt." Dragon held out his non-burning hand. "Turn over your weapons and I swear to you, I'll make sure your crew won't get hurt." Two of the boys forked over their crude clubs, a monkey wrench and a lead pipe. The well-dressed boy spoke out again.

"I cain't do that, man. Emanuel's my homie, we're closer than brothers." Those words hit Dragon in his chest, but he couldn't let his judgement be compromised.

"What's your name, man?" Dragon asked, placing his foot on the back of the boy he had landed on, who was reaching for the weapon now. The weight and strength of Dragon's leg pressing down on his back kept him pinned.

"Joey," the boy replied, flicking his eyes to the confronting leaders. Dragon looked that way, too. Psyche had come down on the same side of the street he had-to Dragon's right-and had subdued two of the leader's lieutenants on the red side. He stood in a similiar position as Dragon, keeping one boy down seemingly with his kinetic powers. Farther down the street, he saw a great bald eagle glide down to the asphalt and switch into a great bear directly in the path of a fleeing blue gang member, letting out an ear-splitting roar. The boy, a black boy with a short-cropped hair cut instantly turned tail and fled back into the fray.

Across the street, Dust and Pharis had apparently bound with their orange mist and lavender-purple aura bands most of the offending blue gangbangers. Now they flanked the leader and were advancing on he and his two lieutenants. Dragon turned back to the kid, Joey. "See? My team has this completely covered. No one's going to get hurt today." The pinned boy let out a groan of complaint. Dragon shrugged at Joey. "No one besides Lucky, here."

Dragon saw doubt play over Joeys' hazel eyes. He empathized with the boy. The streets of Era City were hard for the kids on it, and they forced them against one another, simply based on the areas of the city they lived in. North-siders wore the blue and southerners bore the bright red. There was nothing more to base the rivalry on than districting, yet the fighting had worn on for years, as long as Dragon could remember. Joey heaved a sigh and reached into his back waist-band and handed over the handgun he had stored there. "Just protect Emanuel, ok?"

Dragon nodded fiercely as he collected the gun and stored it in his baggy cargo pants pocket, after checking the safety. He reached for the one still lying on the ground and put it away too. He slid the clubs into his belt and flew forward into the action. Psyche had put down one lieutenant, but the leader had drawn his weapon, a piece just like the two he had just collected. He pointed it at Psyche while his other lieutenant watched in shock behind him.

Dragon swept around his left, where he clamped a hand tightly over the standing lieutenant's mouth. He met eyes with the boy and held his finger over his lips, indicating quiet. The kid nodded and Dragon released him and pointed back to the downed group towards the sidewalk. As the kid got clear, Dragon snuck in behind the leader of the red gang.

Unfortunately, he either hadn't been quiet enough, or the leader had known he was there, because the boy spun in place and pointed the gun directly at Dragon's head. Dragon froze, putting his hands up. "Easy, man. Take it easy. We're not here to hurt anybody."

The gun wavered in the kid's shaky hands. Sweat rolled down his face as he met Dragon's eyes. "You're Emanuel, right?" Dragon asked, taking a slow step towards the kid.

He jerked the gun at him fiercely. "Don't come any closer, man! I mean it!"

"You don't want to hurt anyone," Dragon told him, but he stopped his advance. He wanted to talk the kid down, not die of stupidity. "Your friend, Joey," he said, pointing to the boy watching nervously. "He trusted me to keep you safe, and that's what I'm going to do."

"You don't know nothin', man!" Emanuel accused, holding the gun still pointed at Dragon's face. "Those North-side kids, man, they keep talkin about how I'm poor and I ain't got nothin'. I got plenty, man! I got plenty."

Dragon nodded, his eyes wide and his hands still up. "I know, man. Era City is hard on the kids here. You're left without a protector and you have to fight for everything, because if you're respected, you're safe. But my team, the Titans, we're gonna keep you safe from now on. So why don't you put that gun down and we'll figure all this out together?"

Emanuel shook his head and wiped his brow with his free sleeve, and that was when Psyche struck him from behind with a tackle. The gun went off. The pair of the boys fell to the ground and stinging pain reached up to Dragon from his right leg. He looked down and blood stained his pant leg, in the thigh region.

It must have hurt too much to stand on his leg, because he felt himself fall over, clutching it. Psyche wrestled the gun away from Emanuel and rushed to Dragon's aid. He knelt next to him and tore at his pant leg, where it had been pierced by the bullet. Placing two of his fingers next to the wound, and screwing his face up in concentration, he pulled the bullet out with a small, controlled burst of kinetic force. Pain flashed, hot and strong, over Dragon's leg and he heard himself cry out.

When the police arrived, they called for an ambulance, which took a few more minutes to arrive. Lieutenant Mulcagey was off today, apparently, because he was nowhere to be found at the scene. Instead, a younger, more boring looking officer in a boring suit lead the investigation. Because none of the kids had been in possession of their weapons when Emanuel's had gone off, the police had zeroed in on him. They placed him in handcuffs and the boring cop came over to interrogate Lance, while a pretty, young paramedic tended to his gunshot wound.

"You're not going to take that boy to jail are you?" Lance asked the cop, before he had a chance to ask a question of his own "Because I'm not pressing charges. It was an accident."

The boring cop looked over to the patrol car where Emanuel was sitting in the back. "I suppose there's no need making more paperwork over it," he said, turning back to Lance. "But why wouldn't you press charges? Based on what I understand, it was clear intent to kill you."

"It's not his fault. The gangs are all the protection they have out on the streets." Lance watched Emanuel. "If he goes to jail, I'm willing to bet it's only going to get worse for him. So, just know that I don't want him prosecuted."

"How did all this happen?" the officer asked, jotting a few things down.

"I was trying to talk him down. My teammate, Psyche," he said, pointing to Dani waiting with the other Titans, all watching uneasily. "took him from behind and the gun went off. Then, he took away the gun."

The boring cop nodded again and wrote more notes. "You know all of you kids could've been killed."

"Gee, it's almost as if we're putting our lives on the line so the citizens of Era City don't have to," Lance said, borrowing Mulcagey's mannerisms. He knew he shouldn't mouth off, but he was getting edgy from the pain in his leg.

The EMT attending Lance looked up at him from his wound. "You should be ok in a matter of days. You're really lucky the bullet didn't go far. You said your teammate took the bullet out?"

Lance nodded, more at ease with the nice young woman than the edgy cop. "Yeah. I'm surprised it didn't pierce my leg completely. I guess I got lucky."

"Yeah," the girl said, not souding convinced. "Ordinarily, a gunshot wound from point-blank range gets messy, even in the leg."

The cop, who had watched and waited through the exchange interjected again. "You kids shouldn't leave town, in case we need to ask you a few questions."

Lance eyed the cop, whose badge read _Lt. Simmons_. "Don't worry, Simmons. The Titans are here to stay in Era City. And no one," he said, stressing the words. "Is gonna make us leave." The cop matched his gaze for a few moments, then suddenly flipped his notepad closed. He thanked Lance curtly and walked away.

Lance hobbled over to Dani and the others. "How is your leg?" Dani asked, without preamble. His eyebrows knitted together and his lips pursed in worry made Lance second-guess his analysis of an uncaring, distant brother.

"It's going to be just fine, thanks to you, I'm told," he said, a lopsided smile on his face.

"Really?" Dani asked, his worry turning into bewilderment.

Lance didn't answer right away. "Hey, guys," Lance said, looking at Kit, Petra and Shawn. "Y'all go on ahead. We'll catch up."

The three of them shared an unsure look before Shawn nodded to Lance and the three took off into the sky, leaving the brothers on the ground. Dani didn't wait to pose a question to Lance. "Do you really think I saved your leg?"

Lance shrugged. "I don't think we'll ever know for sure, but I think, given the situation, maybe some higher, protective instinct kicked in." He watched Dani's face, who was getting an arm under Dragon's wounded side and helping him walk without putting pressure on the wounded leg. "Y'know, this feels backwards to me. I'm technically the older brother, I should the one who protects you."

"Well," Dani's voice came out in bursts, under Lance's heavy weight. "You are...quite dense," he said, the two of them kicking off the sidewalk and a burst of Dani's controlled force propelled them up. As they crested onto a rooftop, Lance noticed the raised train tracks over the next street.

"What are we doing?" he asked Dani.

"Taking a shortcut. I don't feel like dragging your fat dragon butt all over town myself," Dani retorted. As one of the trains passed by, headed in the direction of their penthouse building, Dani leaped over again and landed atop one of the cars. He planted his dark boots' rubber soles on the smooth metal roof and they stood fast, despite the occasional turning of the cars. "There aren't any more stations before our stop, close to home, so this should be an easy ride."

It was Lance's turn to be puzzled. "How did you know when the train was coming and that we could ride it?"

Dani looked over at his brother. "You think I do the roof-hopping thing when I don't have to? This is how I've been getting around since we got our powers."

Lance was quiet for a moment, thinking. "I haven't thought about how we got our powers in a long time," he admitted.

"Travesty's bargain?" Dani asked, a note of malcontent to his voice, though Lance didn't know why he felt so. "Yes, well, it's not the kind of thing you bring up in front of everyone."

"Yeah," he said. "I know why I asked for these powers, but why did you pick your powers?"

"I didn't," Dani informed him. "I asked her for pure power, and she saddled me with Fae magic. I refuse to use the rest of it. Only the kinesis is safe."

That surprised Lance. "You...think something's off with her?"

Dani changed the subject abruptly. "Why did you ask for yours?"

"I wanted fire. This is what she did," Lance replied, choosing not to draw attention to the subject change.

"Watch out, this is our stop," Dani advised him. Lance nodded and helped out on this one, flying them up to the balcony, setting down easily so as not to bother his leg.

Lance knew that Dani was holding something back. But why would he feel the need to hide something from Lance? Lance's heart was burdened with worry for his brother. He watched his brother enter the apartment through the sliding glass door. Noticing this, Dani turned to look over his shoulder at him. "You coming in?" he asked.

"Yeah," he assured him. "I'll be along." Dani shrugged and let the door close behind him. Lance leaned back on the stone railing.

Whatever he was going through, it was tough on him but he kept a stoic attitude about it. It was just one more thing he admired about Dani that he resented a lack of in himself. It had always been that way, since they had entered school. Dani was talented at anything he touched and Lance was clumsy, oafish and thick. He had to try a hundred times harder than Dani at any given task to be equally as good.

Dani was smart and tough, but he was also human. How long would it be until he cracked from the pressure? Until his burdens finally spilled over and he couldn't handle them anymore? He had to get Dani to open up so his issues didn't crush him. _But how?_ The question hammered Lance into submission. He didn't have an answer. He didn't know how to help his brother.

In the night that settled over Era City, a shadow moved across the inky darkness of the street, in between two street lights. It darted into the cover of a cove of shadow between twin two-story buildings, housing projects. The figure moved into the shadow of a window, looking one way and then the other before climbing through it into a vacant apartment. The interior wasn't pleasant, the floors marked with scorches, pocks of damage and stained with various human, canine, and feline bodily fluids. The carpet was matted and sticky as he stepped over it, his package cradled between his jacket and his body. He pulled it from his protection and strode over to an air mattress where a prostrate female figure lay. He roused her with a gentle shake and her bright blue eyes opened and focused on the package in his hands.

"Sonic? You got me Sonic?" she said excitedly. He smiled in return, his young face nodding to her.

Her hands reached for the bag as she sat up and he gave hold of the hot food to her; she unfurled the paper and reached into it and pulled out tater tots first and devoured them without another word. He lowered himself slowly to sit next to her, his legs folded practically under him on the short mattress as she devoured the food within the bag. After the tots were polished off, she pulled out a wrapped bundle and she looked at it with the same incredulence that a child might have while looking at a birthday or holiday present. Her hands moved quickly over the colored foil and he leaned back to watch her reaction as she discovered the hamburger within the wrappings and quickly set to work wolfing it down as well. She didn't pause between bites to look around as she once might have.

The boy closed his eyes and was silently thankful that they were no longer scavenged upon by others. First by the gang who had practically owned them since their childhood, then by those horrible people in long, white coats... She had come to be able to have a meal without looking over her shoulder to protect it. She ate voraciously now because she genuinely was hungry, but not because she was afraid her food would be taken from her. Their poverty and resulting hunger was no more pleasant a problem, but he much preferred it to being owned for labor like slaves.

He felt her move and he opened his eyes, already focused on her. She looked at him with longing and asked, "Is there a drink?" He tried not to let his disappointment show. It wouldn't do to let her see that. Rather, he tried to show her a smile and reached a hand into her hair to ruffle it. It was greasy and stringy, yet another unpleasant reminder of their situation. "Sorry, no drink this time," he told her with a brave face. It made him hate himself for forgetting, for not working hard enough, but most of all, for letting her down.

It made his blood boil, literally warming his body beyond his comfort, to think that he couldn't even get a lousy soda for his baby sister to drink. She didn't show any sign of disappointment on her face, but instead seemed to try to accept that fact. There was no liquid to quench the thirst that the salty food had only made worse. At least she had eaten today. "That's okay," she said. "I don't need a drink. Thank you, big bro."

He didn't want to look into her eyes, but forced himself to. He wouldn't fail her that way as well, he promised himself. It was his fault she was going without again, and he would have to redouble his work tomorrow to make up for it. He could do that much for his sister. "Next time," was all he said. "I'll get you a soda next time. I promise."

She smiled at him and placed her tiny arms around him and squeezed. Her grip was weakening, he noticed. It was a simple fact, he thought, why should it be so heart-wrenching to realize? He returned her embrace and she lay back upon the air mattress and closed her eyes, a meal in her belly inviting sleep quickly. He sat motionless, though his legs threatened numbness from their crossed position. He watched her sleep and knew, in his heart, that the emptiness in his belly was worth the fulness in hers. She couldn't leave the apartment, not only because they were secretly there, but because of her condition. He looked over at her slumbering form and the wings behind her were as dirty as her face and the carpet around them, though the feathers of her angel wings were technically white. They fanned out across the vinyl behind her and he felt his heart threaten to fall again, looking at them. _If only she could be rid of them_, he thought, _after all, what good are they doing her now?_ His temperature rose with his anger again and he clenched his willpower against it, forcing the spark not to flicker on in the darkness around them.

The angrier he got, he reminded himself, the closer they were to exposure and danger. If his powers kindled to life through emotional turbulence, then he might not be able to cap them again. It had taken his sister's near-death experience to calm him last time, he dared not think what lengths might be gone to to return control of himself to him if he unleashed his feelings again. So, he had to keep the frustration under control. He wished he could cry, but there was no water in his system. Not anymore, which was making it harder to keep his cool, quite literally. At least crying might offer him a release, but he could not summon even a dry sob in his state. The best he could do was to resolve to try harder tomorrow and bring home drinks for them with dinner. Maybe tomorrow he might eat, he thought. That little spark of hope lulled him to peace as he slowly reclined next to his sister, making long measures of his movements in order to avoid disturbing her. Food, tomorrow, he promised himself. Food. He slipped into sleep with thoughts of whether he would choose pizza, hamburgers, tacos or hot dogs for tomorrow's dinner.


	7. Chapter 6

Dani sat across the dining room table from Lance, the surroundings of the penthouse still mostly dark so the others could still sleep. Before each of them sat a plate full with a mushroom-tomato-steak omelet. Dani wasn't looking at Lance, and Lance didn't really blame him. Yesterday was one messed up day.

Lance was up and walking on his own power this morning, but not without some help from some strong painkillers. At least, that's what Dani had said they were. Lance still hadn't felt them kick in to alleviate the tight knot of muscle in his quadriceps. It still burned and throbbed miserably, and distractingly so. A bullet passing through his leg could do that, he supposed.

Lance didn't know if Dani was blaming himself for the gunshot wound, or if Dani was upset at him over attempting to disarm the skittish boy wielding the weapon. Dani was a closed book as far as his inner thoughts were concerned. As he watched his twin brother's expression, he saw the furrowed brows but didn't know how to interpret them.

Dani suddenly seemed to sense he was being watched, because his eyes instantly shot up to Lance's. Reflexively, Lance looked away, lifting his forkful of omelet to his mouth as he tried to appear to be gazing idly out of the glass sliding doors leading out to the balcony.

As he watched the Era City sky, it was turning from deep violet to a more bright shade of crimson, mixed with shades of orange and yellow. It was because he was pretending to be studying the morning sky so intently that he spotted the projectile probably well before anyone else in the city might have. A great white bullet wreathed in a scarlet tail shot across the sky, falling rapidly towards the center of the city.

Lance sprang instantly to his feet, and immediately regretted it as his wounded thigh gave a wave of pain to him in protest. He gritted his teeth to stay standing through it and instead, he turned to Dani, who had followed his line of sight immediately to the same conclusion.

Dani spoke without a second's hesitation, "I'll get the others. You go be the first to the scene."

Lance nodded, for those would have been his exact orders. At the back of his mind, he noted to examine whether he should be offended or pleased with Dani for that later. For now, he crossed to the balcony doors in a seconds time and took off into the sky. Flying, now that he could actually focus on it and not be dragged down by his leg, was a relief to the pressure of walking on the injury.

Dragon soared over the rooftops and streets towards where he'd seen the projectile disappear and while he levelled himself vertically over the city in preparation to investigate the scene of the crash, he realized he was tense with unease. He was closing in on the thing, he could tell, but it took him a moment to think that it was because he was feeling the magnitude of power coming from the person inside that thing.

It was power on a whole new level. Short of his faerie godmother, Dragon hadn't felt this much raw power coming from anyone else ever before. That set his stomach to twisting around. He navigated through the short line-of-sights the tall buildings in this part of town created by reaching out with a little of his power to feel for the newcomer.

He wondered briefly what the thing he had seen was? It was definitely made of something white, he was sure he had seen that correctly. The red color he had seen around it was something akin to what Pharis described to him as how she saw the rest of them, though he knew it was not quite the same as her super-sight power, her… aura-vision, she had called it?

The only thing that made sense to him was that it was possibly an alien ship, similar in his mind to something from a sci-fi anime or movie. Or it could be some sort of prototype for new technology being tested and something had gone wrong. Given the kind of power he felt from the person inside, he was willing to bet the former was more likely than the latter.

Suddenly, the thought of a massively powerful alien loose in the middle of Era City shook him to the core. Even with all five of the Titans, they might not be able to restrain the bearer of such power. And at that thought, his omelet threatened to rise all the way up.

He had a choice to make, here. He could wait for the rest of the Titans, and launch a full team operation to capture the person. But if he did that, the possibly-alien person could be harming an uncountable number of civilians. That made the choice easy. He might not be able to stop someone much stronger than himself, but he sure as hell could keep them from hurting anyone else. Era City was under the watch of the Titans and Dragon wouldn't rest so long as it needed protecting.

In the middle of the street, a crater spanning from sidewalk to sidewalk and as deep as two car lengths held the projectile he had seen. It was white, thoroughly banged up and scratched-presumably from a trip through the atmosphere-and had a single line down the center. As Dragon examined the craft, the seam split apart, revealing a maroon interior which resembled velvet, soft and comfy. Upon the cushioning, a body lay.

The body was that of a teenage boy, no older than Dragon, assuredly. He had a mop of blonde hair upon his head and was clad in bright red cargo pants and a deep blue shirt. His eyelids were closed, but Dragon noticed them open to reveal bright blue eyes. The eyes looked around the gathered crowd of civilians, and at his gaze, the people shrunk back.

Dragon became aware of the rest of his team flanking him. He had felt their presence by their power, in the same way he had become aware of this alien boy. The alien rose quickly and ascended into flight, in almost exactly the same way Dragon would, levitating a few inches above the ground. As if it had been by instinct, the aliens blue eyes looked up to Dragon's green ones.

Hovering above the edge of the crater, he still didn't want to put pressure on his leg by standing, so he kept in flight and didn't lower to the ground. The alien ascended to be on level with Dragon. He said nothing as he examined Dragon from all angles. Dragon stood still as one would do with a wild animal, letting the alien finish his examination.

The alien opened his mouth, but made no speech. Instead, he would start a sound and cut himself off, as if what he wished to say kept changing. After a few seconds of that, he finally seemed to find what he wanted to say.

"Greetings. My name is Gordon."

Dragon hadn't expected the alien to know English, but managed to keep his surprise contained. Instead, he noted that the statement was neutral, but it was a generally a sign of goodwill to introduce oneself by name. Still, it wasn't enough for Dragon to feel at ease.

"Hello, Gordon. My name is Dragon, this is my team, Psyche, Pharis, Wild Child and Dust."

"Hello to you all," Gordon said, giving an easy smile and a nod.

"Hello," Psyche replied. "It seems your ship crashed in the middle of the city. We Titans are Era City's defenders and protectors. You're fortunate no one was hurt."

"I apologize for my ship's location and the damage it caused. I assure you, it will be removed and fixed in due time. For now, I am on a mission and I must depart to begin."

"I can't allow you to leave," Dragon said, reaching out a hand for the first time to touch the alien. He gripped Gordon's forearm firmly.

Gordon responded instantly. He didn't strike or otherwise assault Dragon. He merely broke the grip with a quick motion of his arm upward, while putting some distance between he and Dragon.

Dragon was impressed, in some small way. Gordon was not the brutish type, which he liked. There were ways to break a hold that were not qualified as assault or even provocative. He had exercised some restraint of that great power Dragon sensed in him. Still, Psyche was right, Gordon's ship could have hurt someone and he didn't intend to let Gordon go so soon. And there was still something he couldn't place that bugged him about this alien.

Dragon waited for Gordon to continue action, but he stayed completely still. He waited for Dragon or one of the Titans to make a counter move. Well-founded strategy, Dragon thought. He would try diplomacy again. "Let me explain. On Earth, when someone causes property damage, they're held accountable for repaying the costs by the law. When someone is harmed, the costs are even higher. So, by crashing here and endangering the people of my city, you've committed something of a crime on my planet. Ordinarily, the police would handle situations like this, but since you're much too strong for the police, my team responded."

As he continued to speak, the irony was not lost on Dragon that he was making it sound as if the Titans had been alert and ready to face any threat. In reality, most of them had been sound asleep when the call to action arrived, but it hadn't stopped them from responding in force and with haste. In the back of his thoughts, he was proud of his team for putting on a good appearance.

"So I'll tell you again that I won't let you leave the area," Dragon said, but this time he did not try to place any hand on Gordon.

"With all due respect to you and your team," Gordon began. Dragon didn't like the derisive tone in his voice. "I am here on Earth, to complete a mission. I won't let anyone get in the way of that or hold me up. If you wish, I can return when I am finished and I will pay my debt in whatever manner is necessary, but for now, I will be going."

Gordon didn't wait for a response, he simply began to fly up and over the Titans, towards his intended destination.

Dragon didn't let him. Dragon caught hold of his pant leg and dragged him down, and Gordon didn't disappoint. He let out fierce right hook that caught Dragon on the temple. The left side of his face felt like it had been lit on fire and rage began to burn inside Dragon. Adrenaline and determination forged extra strength into his muscles and he lashed out with a return blow.

He didn't know if Gordon had genitals resembling that of humans, but he knew a groin attack would incapacitate most men. He was hoping for a quick end. Dragon's fist met its mark and the alien reacted instantly. The punch took the flight right out of Gordon, at least momentarily, because he fell into Dragon's grip.

Gordon's head snapped up, the fire of battle ready in his ocean-blue eyes. He hunched over, protecting himself, but he brought his elbow up to slam into the side of Dragon's head. Dragon felt Gordon wrench out of his grip as the blow sent him reeling to one side.

From behind him, Dragon heard Pharis' voice, louder than he thought he had ever heard her, shouting. "Stop fighting!"

As if on cue, from Dust's outstretched hand, a deep viridian energy enclosed around Gordon in a sphere, and Psyche and Wild Child took up positions on either side of the globe, ready to continue the fight. For the moment, Gordon examined the miniature prison then raised his eyes to see Pharis.

Pharis knelt where Dragon landed, on his good leg, fortunately. She drew his arm across her shoulder and helped bear him to standing position, letting out a sound of great effort in doing so. "I'm sorry for saying this…" she whispered as her knees shook from Dragon's weight. "But you're quite heavy."

Dragon almost laughed even through the grimace of getting up with an injured leg. He leaned on Pharis a little for just a moment before finding his balance enough to levitate just a few inches off the ground. "Something on your mind, Pharis?" he asked.

In reply, Pharis cast a look in Gordon's direction before speaking. "He…"

Dragon raised an eyebrow.

"He's not like Serenity," she said, not meeting his eyes.

"What do you mean?" Psyche inquired.

"Serenity's aura was different. I don't know any other way to describe it, but… she had real evil inside her," Pharis's small voice grew even fainter as she recalled the memory. "Something was truly wrong inside her mind. But Gordon doesn't have that. He's one of the good guys."

Psyche looked to Dragon and the two brothers seemed to be sharing the same thought because Psyche asked, "Are you sure? He did just pretty much destroy this whole block's street and came pretty close to hurting a lot of people doing it."

Pharis nodded. "I know, but that doesn't change what's in his aura. It's the only thing I can be sure of about him…"

Dragon locked eyes with Gordon and kept his gaze for a very long moment, like two dogs squaring up for a fight. He floated closer to Gordon and all the while never looked away.

"I don't care what you are on the inside," he spat. "You can't come into my city and cause destruction and endanger my citizens and expect a free pass."

"Your city?" Gordon challenged. "No one got hurt!"

"That doesn't change that your landing here was reckless endangerment of the people of this city, my people!"

"I've had enough of this," Gordon mumbled, as he broke through the viridian globe and shattered it with a wave of invisible energy. Dragon darted into action before the energy had begun to dissipate. He threw everything in him into one punch and aimed it at Gordon's head.

Gordon had been ready for it this time, he dodged away nimbly from the punch but didn't let Dragon off scot-free. Instead, he threw up both hands and intercepted Dragon's attack, locking his forearm in Gordon's grip. Gordon hefted, and using Dragon's forward momentum, pulled him into a throw, launching him past Gordon's position, sending him tumbling away and towards the nearby glass storefront.

Psyche vaulted away after Dragon while Dust and Wild Child moved to flank Gordon from both sides.

"Where 'ye gonna go?" Dust growled out. "This is our city. There's nowhere ye' can flee to where we can't find ye'."

Gordon's eyes remained passive. "I'm a man on a mission." A smirk reached the corners of his mouth. "Never underestimate the motivation of a deadline."

"It doesn't have to go down like this," Wild Child warned, her normally tranquil voice turning fierce. "You can still agree to do it our way, and we can't promise we won't hurt you."

"If I have to duke it out with you to prove my point, I have no problem with doing so. And I can make no such promises, either." Though his tone underlined a threat, Gordon's voice was still level.

"Stop!" Pharis shouted. Her small voice somehow filled the street and the sound halted all movement around her. All eyes landed on her for a silent moment. "No one is listening to me!" She pointed to Gordon while she looked in Dragon's direction. Dragon knew she couldn't see him with her eyes, but she had a special sight, she could see his very life-force, thereby locating him. "He is not a threat!" Then she reversed her position, looking to Gordon while indicating Dragon with her finger. "He is our leader!" Lowering her finger and her voice, she stood straight up and still. "There is nothing to be gained here from fighting."

Dragon was up and coming forward inside a second. "You think we should just let all of this pass? Just let him go without a trace?" For this first time, true anger was flaring in his eyes as he advanced on Pharis. All eyes suddenly locked onto him and he became aware of it. He stopped in his tracks, realizing Wild Child and Dust had inched closer to Pharis, between him and her.

He looked around him to notice that even Gordon, who hadn't so much as flinched since he emerged from his pod, was watching him with nervous eyes. Dragon had seen the kind of looks he was getting before. Whenever a violent criminal went on a tear that was the look on their victims' faces just before an attack began. It was the look of someone who wanted desperately to get away but couldn't risk setting off a time bomb with sudden movement.

They were afraid of him. The Titans were taking Gordon's side, he thought, even though he had clearly crossed a line and endangered innocent people. The rage boiling inside of him began to tumble in his stomach, the realization making his chest hurt. Fueled by the pain of their betrayal, his anger grew like a fire behind his sternum.

He turned on Gordon, stalking towards him. "You." His voice became guttural and he realized he was calling fire into his hands after he was already doing it. Vaguely, he was aware of his teammates closing around him but he didn't care anymore. This was Gordon's fault, and he was going to pay. He lunged with burning flames in his fists, ready to use them both.

Suddenly, even though he should have been tearing Gordon limb from limb, he couldn't go any farther forward. He noticed a great pair of hands, belonging to a gorilla, holding him around the chest from behind. Around his wrists and ankles were the lavender plasmatic aura of Pharis' powers mixed with the dark-green and browns of Dust's dirt-mist, all holding his joints tenuously as he struggled against his bonds. If he could just fight them long and hard enough, he could break through his teammates' hold on him and get to Gordon.

In a flash, a kinetic blast hit him under the chin and threw him back. He landed atop the gorilla, who let out an audible grunt but didn't loosen her grip. The energy bonds around his extremities strengthened when his resistance faltered. He fought to get free again but it was useless. He had lost the leverage he would have needed and the bonds were too tight now. Above him, he heard Psyche's voice yelling out.

"I suggest you get out of here! NOW!"

Dragon couldn't figure out who he was talking to, then it hit him. Gordon. Psyche was helping him to escape. He had to get up and stop him from getting away. Psyche approached the restrained Dragon, Dust and Pharis still on either side of him, hands out and energy surrounding them to match his restraints.

Exhaustion reached him and he sagged against the solid mass of the gorilla holding him. After a second's hesitation, he felt the bonds around his limbs loosen up. It was an opportunity he couldn't resist. Renewed fury infused his limbs with more strength and he burst free from the hands around him, meta-physical and physical alike.

Just as he righted himself and before he could get his bearings, Psyche hit him with another kinetic blast and sent him right back into the arms of Wild Child's gorilla body. With the adrenaline fading, he felt the pain from Psyche's blasts mixed with another source of pain. Behind his sternum and to the left, crippling pain was just beginning to break through the suppression of adrenaline.

His thoughts quickly cleared of murderous intent and it was all he could do to stop from collapsing. He clutched at his chest, the dusty hands loosening on him at the sight of his pain.

"Something's wrong with his heart!" he heard Psyche telling their teammates. "We need to get him to a hospital!"

"Oi, is it safe to take him near civilians?" Dust asked.

"We don't have much choice," Pharis warned. "His aura is fading."

"Agreed." Wild Child interjected. "We can continue to restrain him if need be, but we're going to lose him otherwise."

With all of his strength, super and normal, leaving him quickly, Dragon was in no place to argue. The fury was bleeding away as well, leaving only more exhaustion from all the effort he'd exerted. He fought to stay conscious but he had nothing left to fight with. Dragon succumbed to the darkness beckoning him to rest.

Dragon floated away inside his dream, only vaguely aware that he must be dreaming. Images swirled into existence around him. His friends, his mother, then….

The woman standing over him had fairer skin than any mortal could have, her fuchsia eyes boring through his dream self, as if she could see straight to his heart. Long locks of glacier-white hair hung in a thick braid over her shoulder and another behind the opposite shoulder. Clad in a long white gown the folds of which fell around her like a toga, she spoke with a voice laced with frost and it chilled Dragon, even in a dream.

"My godchild, how long do you think you can stay hidden from me? You are bound to me and as such I know how to find you." She accentuated the last two words with a raspy whisper and it seemed so close it tickled the hair in his ear.

He couldn't lie to himself in his own dream. It inspired more than a little fear in him

"Godmother," he said in defiance. "I am not afraid to face you. I know how you think. That is why I refuse to meet with you. You are powerless to make me conform to your whims."

Her lips turned down into a frown. "Your attitude will cause you such pain."

"You can't threaten me. This is my dream. Now, be gone."

The image vanished into smoke immediately. Dragon was left in the featureless black expanse to drift into rest.


	8. Chapter 7

Lance slowly became aware of himself. His senses returned bit by bit, dragging him back to reality. He was not floating in warm, comfortable darkness. He was laying on a vibrating bed that felt more like a table to his back. He was being rolled on a gurney, he realized, hearing the sounds of hushed conversations and beeping equipment. His nose was filled with the acrid scent of disinfectant spray. _'I'm in a hospital,'_ he thought sluggishly.

Sensation of touch was the last sense to come back to him. At first, he felt naked, unable to feel any texture of cloth upon him. Under his fingertips, the soft cotton of the sheet came to his touch as he moved his fingers. He shifted his legs slightly and felt his pants still on. That determination made, he decided to open his eyes.

He was being rolled into a private room by a team of medical staff, EMTs and nurses and a doctor, wearing a white coat and stethoscope over sweats. Not far behind, but not close enough to be in arm's reach of the medical team, was Dani. His icy blue eyes filled with worry, and watching everything the staff did.

They lifted Dragon from the gurney and laid him on a bed. He had sensors all over his body and an IV piercing his vein in the crook of his left elbow. He suddenly remembered why he was in the hospital.

His chest panged with the memory of the great pain he had felt stabbing into his chest cavity from right behind his sternum. It must have been a heart attack. Goosebumps rolled over his flesh when he thought back to Dr. Adams' warning.

Lance distractedly answered questions from the doctor, who had noticed his eyes open and moving around the room, and gave the contact number for Dr. Adams' office. He noticed Dani wasn't quite making eye contact with him as he hovered close to the entry wall.

After a while the medical staff was satisfied that he was stable and was going to stay that way and slowly trickled out.

Leaving Dani and Lance alone.

Lance didn't like the silence, but he didn't wish to be the one who broke it. Instead he kept quiet and began putting the pieces of his memory together from the last few hours or so. It was hard to tell what had happened and when. From the best he could recollect, Gordon had crashed his pod, the Titans had confronted him, a fight had broken out, Petra had spoken on Gordon's benefit, Lance had taken offense to that…

No, he wasn't going to sugarcoat it. He had gotten _angry_. Angrier than he could ever remember being in his whole life. Something about Gordon and the way Petra had vouched for him made Lance extremely jealous. He had almost turned on Petra in his rage. He realized that though the other Titans had been there and strong enough to stop him, if they hadn't…

Another chill rolled down his back.

It was a horrible feeling, knowing he had _wanted_ to hurt his friend. Even for only an instant. He hated himself for that. He found himself wishing greatly that this had only been a dream and he needed only to wake up from the nightmare for it to be over. He really wanted this all to be imaginary.

But the regret he was experiencing was his own fault. He couldn't pity himself. It was his own doing that had brought him here.

_'But_,' some far off portion of his brain interjected, '_I didn't actually hurt anyone, aside from maybe Gordon, but a guy that tough could probably take what little I gave him. Nothing bad actually happened, thanks to the Titans_.'

_'It doesn't matter_,' the more present part of his mind overruled. '_If they hadn't stopped you or hadn't been able to, you would have hurt Petra._'

He couldn't deny it, not even to himself.

Would the Titans ever forgive him? Would Petra? _Should_ they?

A third time, he felt a cold ripple on the skin of his back. The others might not let him stay on the team, much less as their leader.

He might be able to handle not being the team's captain, but if he was completely rejected and sent away… The shame alone might do him in.

But being brought down from leader wouldn't be much more bearable. Who would command instead of Lance? Dani? He seemed the most likely choice.

Lance closed his eyes. _'Please let this just be a dream. Please…'_ He opened his eyes to the same hospital room. His heart sank. More than anything, he wished to go back and stop himself.

But he could not. It was done and long gone and like all things, it could never be altered from this point on.

There was one option left to him. He could just leave now. Even with his leg still on the mend and recovering from a heart attack, he figured he could make it on his own power. But where would he go? What else, besides fighting for Era City and his friends did he have to live for?

He let his head fall and his chin rest on his chest. It would be useless. He would have to live with himself no matter what he did. If his friends rejected him, the least he could do was face it head on and accept it instead of running from it.

As he thought it, three bodies suddenly occupied the space around the doorway. It was Shawn, Kit, and Petra. They looked at Lance in brief glances, as if afraid that if they gazed too long, they would arouse his rage.

Dani looked up and saw them. Rising from his chair, he bid them to enter with a waving motion of his hand. No one spoke as they filed in and no one looked directly at Lance or met eyes with him.

Silence lay between them in an extended pause.

Lance realized that since he was the one who had lost his cool, he would have to try to begin the conversation.

"Titans, there's something I want to- no, need to say to you." Four pairs of eyes rose to him. "The way I lost control out there, made you guys stop me… it was wrong. As your leader, I should never have put you in that position. I'm extremely sorry. To each of you, especially you, Petra."

As he spoke her name, he felt her aura-vision latch onto him. She stared with her mouth open slightly, Then, seeming to catch herself, she nodded intently.

"But that's not all. What I really have to say, the really hard thing to say is…" he trailed off and his voice broke. Gritting his teeth and struggling to compose himself, he fought to continue. "The really hard thing to say is, whatever you guys decide about me, I'll respect it. I'm just really sorry that I put you through this. I hope your new leader is an improvement."

Dani quirked his eyebrows and tilted his head down, even as he locked his eyes on Lance. "What the hell are you saying?"

"I just hope you'll still have me as a Titan," he continued, either having not heard Dani or not knowing how to respond.

"You dolt," his twin replied, louder this time so it would grab Lance's attention. Lance blinked, his eyes flickering around the room. Each of the other Titans seemed just as confused.

"You…you thought we'd want you off the team?" Kit asked, sounding just a little betrayed in her confusion.

"Och, ye kinnae' get away that easily. You're our leader now, we need you," Shawn interjected.

"You mean… you aren't mad at me for losing my temper?" Lance asked, incredulous.

"You got carried away," Dani said. "It isn't like you killed someone. We aren't going to burn you as a witch."

"But I-"

"Lance," Petra's small voice said. "It's ok. I- we forgive you."

In that moment, as Lance looked into the frail girl's blind eyes, he gained some insight about her. She was blind, so she didn't read facial expressions or know how to put on a false façade of her own. What you saw with her was what you got. She smiled warmly at him, her eyes soft.

But just because she lacked normal sight to read faces, didn't mean she didn't understand what those around her were feeling. Her powers lent her an extra side to person's body language to read. She somehow understood what mental anguish he was going through. Anguish about how he had almost hurt her. And she forgave him.

Her empathy, gleaned from her aura-sighting powers, allowed her to share an intimate moment with Lance in that room with all the other Titans. Her unfailing forgiveness in the sight of all the same knowledge of his intentions washed over him like a wave that washed away his guilt.

"You guys," he said, looking to each of them. "Thank you. I've never had such true friends."

A phone rang somewhere in the room, shattering the good vibes. All eyes turned to Dani, who pulled a black bar phone from his coat pocket and pressed it to his ear.

"Titans hotline, Psyche speaking," he said. He listened intently to the other person on the line and nodded. "We're on it, Lieutenant. You're welcome. Bye." He put the phone away and looked to the other four teenagers.

"Reports of a super-powered boy holding up a convenience store. ECPD has requested we look into it, and try to find and apprehend him." Dani looked to Lance in his bed, hooked up to all kinds of medical equipment. "Is it safe for you to leave the hospital?"

Lance shook his head. "You guys go. I'm not going anywhere for a while."

Dani nodded once then turned toward the door. "Titans, you heard him. Let's go."

Shawn and Petra responded almost instantly, turning to fall in behind Dani on either side of him. Kit lingered for just a moment. "I'm really relieved that you're ok," she said, brushing a strand of her white hair behind her ear, over her black opaque mask. Lance could almost see a small smile behind the black.

"Me too," he said, smiling wide at her. That prompted her bronze skin to brighten with red around her high cheekbones. She turned and strode from the room quickly, waving her quick goodbye.

Psyche lead Dust, Pharis and Wild Child to the nearest balcony and wasted no time taking off. Psyche kinetically assisted his leap from the balcony while Dust formed a tan misty platform to stand upon and sky-surfed after him. Pharis's small face and unseeing eyes were covered by her aura visor, a visible lavender nebulous energy also expanding out of her back to develop into wings. She took flight, barely needing to flap them.

Wild Child got the impression that Pharis wings were less for function, like her own in bird-form, and served more as a physical representation of her mental powers manifesting in the physical world. Wild Child placed one wooden-sandaled foot on the balcony edge and as quick as breathing, began to will her form into that of a peregrine falcon.

The small bird of prey would be agile enough to maneuver deftly through the Era City skies and fierce enough to take part in combat, if necessity required it. Wild Child's arms began to change first, her slender arms and the bones within rearranging themselves into the smaller and lighter bones of the falcon's wings. Her legs and feet shifted from her human bones into gripping claws tipped with sharp talons. Finally, her masked face morphed into that of a beaked and beady-eyed avian predator.

Flapping her new wings once, twice and thrice, she took flight after the others. She shortened the distance with hardly an effort and diverted her attention to scanning the rooftops below for Psyche. Tracking forward of him, she anticipated their destination.

Thick plumes of smoke were already rising into the midday sky. The convenience store below the smoke still smoldered with the embers of dying flames. Era City's Fire Department had hastily responded and though their job wasn't complete, they had switched from full-out fire-fighting to a proactive approach, preventing re-ignition of dying embers.

Psyche touched down with his heavy black work boots on the pavement behind the store, and Dust and Pharis landed just behind him. Wild Child took up the rear, return-shifting to her human form. Her vision dulled somewhat as her eyes returned to merely-human status.

Psyche turned to Pharis first. "What can you sense from the scene of the crime?"

Pharis cast her gaze all around and lingered over the charred remains of the quick-stop gas station. After a full sweep of the area, including the skies, she responded. "Whoever started these fires used very small points of origin, and very many of them. It's fire magic like I've never seen before."

"Are they still nearby?" he followed up.

Pharis scanned the nearby buildings and the open sky above them. "Not close enough for my Sight to pick them up."

Psyche frowned hard. "We'll have to locate them the hard way, then. Spread out and force them out. Pharis, Dust, I want you two to search for them from the air. High ground should give us an advantage." Pharis and Dust both nodded acceptance of their orders and took to the skies without a moment to waste. "Wild Child," he said, turning to her. "You and I will pursue from the ground. Can you take the form of an animal that will help us track them?"

Wild Child nodded immediately. Without speaking, she closed her eyes for a second to concentrate. As easily as before, she began to shapeshift into another animal. After a moment, it was no longer the girl in the black mask and white gi before Psyche but a dire wolf. Black fur covered her muzzle and continued down her neck, where it met the thick white coat that continued down her back until right at her hind legs, where it returned to black down to her paws and tail.

Wolf Child placed her nose to the ground and began to test the area around the convenience store for it's scent. The acrid smell of ash and soot was everywhere, nearly overpowering her sensitive sense of smell. As she searched for a scent, anything separate from the charcoal smell, she paced closer and farther from the store.

At long last, she got a good whiff of an underlying scent, underneath all the scent of destruction. Unwashed body, a few days old at least and most likely male, from the quality of the musk she was getting. She tracked it down the sidewalk one way until it seemed to disappear. She doubled back and on the opposite side of the twin glass-paned doors, she got it again. But it was accompanied by a partner scent now.

Wolf Child could detect flowery shampoo and very feminine perfume or body spray. While musk and floral scents intertwined, she raised her head to look back at Psyche. She let out a chuffing sound and bobbed her head in the direction she was starting to track. Judging from the look on his face, it was darned odd seeing a canine make that kind of neck movement.

Nevertheless, Psyche followed and the two took off with Wolf Child's nose leading the way. The trail of scent lead through side streets, a narrow alley-way, more streets and even circled around one building entirely once. All the while, the trail was getting stronger, and Wolf Child knew they were closing in.

Finally, she lead them around a corner into a squared off alleyway, each side backed against a multi-storied building. At the opposite corner was another opening and in the center of the opening a slender girl with pitch-black hair and equally dark eyes crouched over a piece of paper spread across the ground. Next to her, the skinny boy the shock of dark hair and authentic red highlights pointed to something on the paper, even as the two looked back over their shoulders at she and Psyche.

The girl rose and an eerie little smile crossed her lips as she faced them. Wolf Child's eyes widened in amazement. Behind her, Psyche sounded just as shocked as she felt.

"Serenity?!" he exclaimed. "You're supposed to be in jail!" His tone found righteous anger and it burned in his voice like a fire.

"You again? Is your leader-boy here as well? I'm just dying to see him again," she purred.

Wolf Child found a growl rising up out of her throat even before she could make a conscious effort to stifle it. Her lips raised away from her teeth, baring them in a snarl at the girl.

"These friends of yours?" asked the boy. Wolf Child noticed he had an unwashed look about him, and she was willing to bet the musky smell had been his. He drew and brandished a mean-looking handgun from under his leather coat. Instinctively, Wolf Child took a small step backward, her animal brain telling her to flee.

She shook free of the primal fear. She knew better than to be afraid of the weapon, it was just a tool, albeit a dangerous one. If need be, she was prepared to face a gunman. She raised her hackles and snarled again.

"Kid," Psyche said in a warning tone. "This is not someone you want to ally with. She's dangerous and a criminal. I'm offering you the chance now to walk out of this fight. No harm, no foul."

The boy let out a laugh. "I don't think so. If I do that, you'll still hand me over to the police and take my hard-earned money away," he sneered. He was awfully young to be so jaded. He couldn't have been more than 14 years by Wolf Child's estimate. She knew how a hard life could take away one's innocence and turn them into something awful.

"That money isn't yours. You stole it and put a lot of people in harm's way to do it. You will have to answer for both those crimes," Psyche answered.

"Titan," Serenity purred again. "do you really think I will allow you to detain my new partner here?" At that, Wolf Child let out another growl, a deep-chested sound that caught Serenity's attention. "Oh, and who is this? Ah, I remember, you're the animal changeling, Wild Child."

_'Glad that you remember me, because I still owe you for the last time we met,'_ Wolf Child thought, with a canine grin playing across her maw.

"If this is the way it has to be, just know that the Titans are going to take you both down and bring you to justice," said Psyche, cracking his knuckles and loosening up his neck.

The four of them faced one another, no one moving and all the muscles in Wolf Child's body tensed up waiting for the first move. She held a ready position, wanting there to be no question as to who chose this fight and who offered a peaceful solution.

True to her expectations, it was Serenity who made the first move. She called a ball of flame into her hand as quick as a blink and thrust her hands forward, palms out and fingers in a symbolic controlling gesture. The fire spell the witch threw flew over Wolf Child's back and Psyche met it with one of his own kung-fu gestures.

A sphere of invisible force pushed against the fire spout, dispersing it among a wide area of air and the flames dissipated. Wolf Child darted forward to make her move, but the wiry black-haired boy made a counter-move.

He aimed the heavy barrel of the gun at Wolf Child and pulled the trigger. What issued forth from the mouth of the gun was a miniature fire-ball wreathing the bullet. It moved slow enough for Wolf Child to see it, which meant that however he was enchanting his ammo, it was costing the bullet it's killing capacity.

It made the difference in a mortal wound and a near-miss. Wolf Child was able to bounce lightly on her paws back and away from the bullet as it struck the asphalt on the far side of her from him. Psyche didn't let the boy off the hook, though. From her flank, he struck out with another kinetic wave, which hit the boy center in the chest and knocked him onto his back.

Wolf Child took the opportunity to leap to flank the two villains, coming at Serenity from the angle at which the boy was directly behind her. She couldn't move without exposing the boy to Wolf Child's fangs.

So she didn't. Instead, Serenity raised one hand to the sky to call lightning into her palm but Wolf Child had been through that magic trick before. She darted forward, daring a bite to Serenity's neck.

And it cost her. Serenity unleashed not electricity but a gust of wind whipped at her back and caught Wolf Child underneath her chest, carrying her tumbling backward into the brick wall behind her. She heard herself let out a loud yelp as she hit the wall.

Psyche retaliated by stepping up close to Serenity, inside her reach where it would be harder to defend herself. But she had been prepared for something like that. As Psyche lashed out with a double-fisted strike, she weaved out of the way of the attack and stepped to the side, leaving the boy open from Wolf Child's direction. She placed her left hand on Psyche's shoulder and this time when she outstretched her right arm to the sky, lightning answered her call.

Through her grip on Psyche's shoulder and through his coat, electricity coursed in a burst through her and into Psyche's body. He convulsed and fell forward onto one knee, barely throwing out a hand to support himself in front of him.

As Serenity created some distance between them, Wolf Child was rising from the concrete where she had been thrown. Her ribs screamed in pain at her, but she was up and ready for some payback.

Serenity let out a gleeful little laugh. "Is this what it is like to truly play with you Titans? I'm going to enjoy working my way through you and tracking down that little leader of yours. I'm going to have _extra_ fun with him."

Possessive rage infused Wolf Child's canine muscles with new power and conviction. She was _not_ getting anywhere near Lance!

Wolf Child leaped at Serenity's face, jaws open and ready to crush her skull. But a quick burst of wind carried her over Serenity's head. Wolf Child recovered more quickly this time, rolling further in mid-air and landing on her paws and jumping back for another attack.

Serenity wasn't prepared for this one. Wolf Child's massive jaws locked down on all of one of Serenity's folded arms, from shoulder to wrist. Wolf Child clenched down and didn't let go. She shook her head all around, taking Serenity's feet from the ground.

Out of nowhere, Psyche flew forward at Serenity, colliding with her in mid air as Wolf Child shook her. The impact shook Wolf Child's whole skull and tore Serenity's arm from her jaws with a loud snapping sound and a cracking sound where Psyche crashed into her.

Landing on top, Psyche pummeled Serenity about the face and shoulders. "You stay away from my brother!" he screamed.

Wolf Child leaped to cover Psyche and pin Serenity down, and only realized just then who was missing from the scene. It had been a distraction. Serenity had taunted them both about Lance to draw their attention to her so the kid had a chance to escape.

Though, now that Wolf Child thought of it, why he hadn't taken the opportunity for a shot at either she or Psyche was beyond her. Regardless, Serenity's tactic had worked well and the boy had gotten away. At least for the time being.

With Psyche pinning Serenity and the gun-toting boy gone, Wild Child was free to resume her human form. She sat down on her back haunches and slowly her limbs rescinded the thick fur covering them as their muscle mass shrunk back down to the girl's own human arms and legs. Her muzzle retracted as well, and her dark fur became her black body mask once again, her olivine skin draped in her white gi.

Psyche was still sitting on Serenity's chest, pinning her wrists to the ground, preventing her from casting any more magic. His weight on her torso and her arms restricted, she was unable to put up any resistance and toss Psyche off. Whatever else she could do, it seemed when you bound her hands she couldn't pose a threat.

Psyche panted as he slowly regained control of himself. "Find Dust and Pharis. We need to transport Serenity back to jail. Then it's after that boy."


	9. Chapter 8

Wild Child scanned the skies below her, now flapping the wings of her falcon-form once more. Psyche was leading the search for the missing boy from the ground while she, Dust and Pharis took to the sky around them to scan the streets and alleyways for the black-haired, gun-toting accomplice of Serenity's who had gotten away.

Though they had spread out in each of the cardinal directions, the search was not going well. It was beginning to wear the afternoon light into evening twilight and they had not even spotted him once. Wild Child was beginning to lose hope in tracking the boy down at all.

It wasn't that they wanted to hurt him, after all, he had shown restraint and run while he had the chance rather than take a wide-open shot at either Wild Child or Psyche. Psyche had wanted to know why, and so they were on a manhunt. She turned, dipping one wing and beginning to swing her flight into a wide arc, turning almost one-hundred eighty degrees.

That was when her keen avian eyes spotted something familiar. It wasn't their quarry but it was a means for answers. A familiar shock of bright blonde hair was what caught her eye as she redirected herself. She looked back for a second glance and spotted the bright red of his pants. Gordon. Wild Child wanted some answers from him as well.

Taking a detour, she fluttered down to the rooftop Gordon sat perched upon and shifted back to human form a foot from the ground. Her wooden sandals clacked on the surface and Gordon turned, the motion relaxed and aloof.

"Hey," he said easily, as if greeting a friend. "You're one of the Titans, right? Wild Child?" he turned to face her completely, honest blue eyes rising to meet her. "I'm not looking for any more trouble. I'll stay out of your way, I just need more time in the city."

"You can relax. I'm not here for a fight," she said, taking a confident tone. "I just want a chance to talk to you. I need to know a few things."

Gordon's tense stance, with hands held up above his waist and palms out, fell to a more natural state. "Oh. Ok… I guess there's no harm in explaining myself."

"Certainly not," she replied. Wild Child remembered how he and Dragon had come to blows and how they had both been too stubborn to yield to the other. "My first question is why you're here in Era City at all? What is so important that's here?"

Gordon nodded, as if anticipating the question. "I'm not from here. But neither is my adversary. I've come here while tracking him."

"You're not talking about Earthly travel are you? Was that a spaceship we saw earlier?"

He nodded again. "I've fought him for as long as I've been alive, sometimes crossing the entire galaxy. In one form or another, he and I have been battling for dominance for eons. In this incarnation, we have been fighting for over 200 years of your time."

Wild Child was taken aback by that information. "200 years?! You don't look older than 15…"

"My people live very long lifespans, compared to the people of your planet," Gordon explained, his tone gentle, as if he had explained this concept before.

"Incarnations...fighting over eons...are you some kind of immortal?"

Gordon actually let out a little laugh. "Hardly. We are just as prone to death as your kind."

"You keep talking about humans, have you been to our planet before?"

"Only once. I learned a pittance about your race before he fled the planet and I went after him."

"So you believe your…adversary… is in Era City?"

He nodded once more. "Or at least within a short distance of it. I can feel that I'm getting closer to him."

"You can feel him out, sense him nearby?" Wild Child asked, a possibility for Gordon to be of assistance to her dawning in her mind.

"To some degree, I can feel how approximate I am to a strong enough power."

"Do you sense me in the same way?" Wild Child asked.

He tilted his head to one side in a gesture of conciliation. "I admit. When you come close enough, I begin to sense the edges of your aura."

"Since you've gotten away with destruction of property and reckless endangerment, would you mind paying your debt to our society by assisting me with a small task?"

Gordon frowned. "I do not have time to spare. I must be about my mission."

"Hey," Wild Child said, a little surprised by how forceful her tone was. "You owe us, remember? The least you can do is spare an hour for a favor since you've made so much work for us."

Gordon looked at her eyes and heaved a sigh of defeat. "One hour. No more. After it is over, I must return to my task."

"I promise. Only an hour, then you'll be free to go," Wild Child offered with a small smile to charm the deal closed.

"What would you have me do?"

"Pharis, if you coordinate with Gordon, will you be able to spot him if he can get us close enough to him?" Psyche asked. The sun had gone all the way down and the stars were coming out to play for the night. The streets were lined with incandescent light and the four Titans and Gordon stood in a circular formation in the squared-off alley where they had re-apprehended Serenity.

Pharis steadied those milky-white orbs on Psyche for a moment. "Yes. Once we're close enough, I should be able to see him, if he's special."

"And Wild Child, you can pick up his trail and point us in the right direction?" She nodded. "I hate this. Asking a criminal for help?" Psyche remarked, not bothering to lower his voice. Gordon gave him a look of chagrin. "Are you sure this will work?"

She shrugged. "He knew I was close before he even looked my way. Maybe the kid's got a signal of similar strength."

Psyche wiped one hand over his face, brushing hair off of his cheek. "I hope so. Otherwise, we're pardoning him for nothing."

"If it makes ye' feel any better," Dust said, the bur in his voice strong. "Technically, we don't have the authority to pardon him anyway."

Psyche glared in Dust's direction, who promptly went quiet. "Let's just get this show on the road."

"Of that we can agree," Gordon interjected. Together, he and Pharis lifted off from the asphalt surface of the ground while Wild Child morphed into her dire wolf form and put her nose to the ground once again. Psyche and Dust followed her on the pavement .

Wolf Child lead the way down the exit the boy gunslinger had taken. She identified the same scent here from his shoes that she had located in the square alley. She had a trail. Pharis and Gordon lingered in the air above them, following her lead.

She tested each direction on the sidewalk and followed the scent trail across the abandoned street. They trailed down another back alley and another after that. It seemed this boy did not like using the street sidewalks. Occasionally, they'd slow up for Psyche to shoot a look up to Pharis who would shake her head in the negative and the tracking would continue.

It took about thirty minutes for them to finally close in. Psyche checked in visually with Pharis and Gordon. Gordon hovered effortlessly above them, in the same way Dragon might, and laid a hand gently, barely on Pharis' arm. His eyes were closed and he pointed vaguely to their left. Wolf Child saw Pharis align her head in that direction and scan the building he had pointed them to.

Pharis froze in surprise momentarily, as if shocked they had actually found him. Then she looked down to the ground party and nodded. Psyche held up a tightly clenched fist in victory and waved Wolf Child and Dust in behind him as he moved up on the building.

The hideout for their quarry was an abandoned apartment complex. The projects of Era City had been forgotten almost before construction of them was completed. The building stood strong, it's brick exterior forged to be a symbol of pride for those who would live there. Now, the triple story construct was empty. Well, not quite empty according to Gordon and Pharis.

They landed soundlessly behind the group and the five of them moved on Psyche's gestures. Silently, they snuck around the bend. Pharis led the way, her face half-covered by her purple aura, enhancing her aura-vision. She stopped short of a shoulder-height window. Psyche moved up to peek over the lip of the window-sill.

He made a few finger gestures, indicating Wild Child and Dust to circle around and enter the building through another apartment to block the hideout's front door. With a bob of her wolf head, Wolf Child and Dust doubled back to around the bend.

Wolf Child stopped in place, and shivered slightly, preparing for another transformation. Her great pelt and giant paws and jaws shrunk back down to her normal size then continued shrinking until she stood in the alleyway as a small mustelid no bigger than a common rat.

Ferret Child looked up to the suddenly-giant Dust, who lifted her with one hand and set her on a windowsill as he coalesced power into his fingertips to seep his tan mist into the cracks of the closed window. Suddenly, his mist shifted in mass and wedged into the crack. He lifted one hand up and the mist pulled the window open a few inches, allowing her to enter. Once inside, she returned to her human form and brought the window the rest of the way open for Dust to climb through.

Wild Child looked around the apartment they were in and found the surroundings highly unpleasant. She hadn't had extensive experience with apartments-Dragon's Penthouse was the nicest place she'd ever seen, much less lived- but she knew this was the worst condition she'd ever seen a home in.

Stains on the carpet seemed to match the stickiness of it and she wasted no time striding for the door with Dust right behind her. Leaving the small bedroom, they entered a dilapidated living area, where the smell of mildew grew stronger, like sour milk, and it swelled all around them. Was this the kind of place where the gunslinger _lived_? She couldn't imagine why anyone would choose to live here.

They found the front door quickly and forged out into the main hallway, where the stench of disrepair was much removed. Following the bend in the hallway the opposite way they had traveled on the outside, they arrived at what Wild Child believed to be the hideout front door.

She didn't hesitate to return to her dire wolf form and as Wolf Child hunkered to the side of the door, Dust summoned more mist and formed a thick, heavy cylinder with it. A battering ram, she deduced. They waited for Psyche to give the signal from the opposite side.

After fifteen more seconds, they began to hear shouting from the other side of the apartment and Dust took that as his cue. He slammed the mist-ram into the door once, it shuddered but did not give way so he repeated the strike. On the third impact, the door broke free of the lock and the whole thing swung wide open. Dust surged inside with Wild Child right at his heels.

The noise was coming from the first bedroom, just back and to the left of them so they moved quickly for it.

"What the-?!" Psyche's voice rang out clearly.

Dust and Wild Child turned the doorframe to find a stunning scene laid out before them.

They had indeed tracked the gunslinger boy to his hideout, but they did not expect what they found. On the opposite side of the room Psyche stood atop broken glass, no doubt shattered by his kinetic powers. Pharis flanked him to one side and Gordon was inside the room but didn't take up position with them, instead lurking towards the corner.

Opposite from Psyche and the others was the dark-haired boy and he held his firearm out warily, pointing it mainly at Psyche but dipping it towards Wolf Child and Dust as they entered the scene. Behind the boy was a small girl, maybe a few years younger than he, just as dirty and much more fear in her eyes. And behind her, she tried to hide but couldn't fully manage to, Wolf Child could see white, feathered wings. Like an angel's.

She crouched behind the boy and he in turn tried to cover her with his coat. "Dang! You don't leave well enough alone, do you?" he cried, pointing his gun back to Psyche.

"Oh, crap," Psyche muttered. "I _so_ didn't need this!" Wild Child wasn't sure whether he meant it about the gun or the girl.

Instantly, Wolf Child leaned back on her haunches. As she transformed back into her human self, it was easy for her to shift all of her weight on her legs as she rose to stand.

She felt deeply for the boy, now that she had all the pieces of the puzzle. The reason he had fled from the fight between the Titans and Serenity was clear now, as well as why he hadn't fired a shot after the first one. He had been rushing back here, to her. Wild Child was willing to be the money was for her benefit as well. The way she was taking refuge behind him, what little he could offer, and the way he shielded her in response, cleared things up completely.

Wild Child was willing to bet the girl was his little sister. No other bond lent itself to self-sacrifice or so deeply to service. She remembered that much from her relationship to her own little brother. The reason she bore her- _'This isn't about me,'_ she reminded herself as she cut that thought short.

A pang of regret shot through her. Arresting the boy meant that the little girl would have no one to depend on. But he had to be brought to justice. Didn't he?

Maybe not. Maybe there was another way. Wild Child desperately wanted there to be one. She decided to try for one. "Let's take a deep breath. And lower the gun," she said.

In response to her, the boy let his gaze linger on her for a moment. The gun shook but he didn't move it away from Psyche. Psyche, to his credit, didn't move or speak further. He stood stock still and let his eyes move to Wild Child as well, while quirking only one eyebrow.

"We didn't know," she began. "About her. Ok? So we're not gonna hurt you. Now we just want to help."

"Don't you lie to me!" the boy responded. He realigned the gun to point at her now. "We know what you'll try to do. You'll take us back to GRI! We're not going! I'll die first!"

Wild Child struggled to keep herself calm with that weapon pointed at her. "My name is Wild Child. I'm one of the Titans of Era City. We try to keep the city safe. For all of its citizens," she said shakily, stressing that last sentence.

That seemed to catch the boy off of his guard. He didn't lower the gun or say anything in response. Maybe she could use that.

"What's your name?"

He hesitated before answering. "Flame."

Wild Child felt a small smirk rise to her mouth under the cloth of her mask. "Your real name?" she asked with a short giggle.

He frowned more intensely. "You didn't tell me your real name, why should I tell you mine?"

She had to admit, he had her there. She had to give a little to get a little. It was a calculated risk, giving up the protection of a code name, but she believed that if she could reason with the boy, she could save both he and his sister. "My name is Kit."

"Wild Child!" Psyche hissed. "What are you doing?!"

Kit ignored him and focused on the boy. He looked her up and down, then met her eyes for a long moment. "Blake," he finally said. Kit's smirk turned into a fierce grin. The first victory!

Behind Blake, the little girl peered out slightly and even smiled at her. "Elaine," she said, waving her fingers to Kit.

Kit waved back. Now to try to go a little further. "Well, Blake, now that we're on a first-name basis, it seems pretty rude to hold me at gunpoint, don't you think?"

Blake's unnatural red eyes gave her the once-over again, wary of her but not fearful any longer. He waited a long moment before slowly lowering the gun to point at the ground. A sigh of relief went up from the Titans side. Even the alien and seemingly impervious Gordon seemed to relax at that.

"I can understand why you'd do what you have, for your sister. I have a younger sibling, too," Kit offered, trying to keep the conversation going.

Something in Blake's eyes hardened again at that, but he didn't direct his anger at Kit. "I won't let anyone hurt her. Not anymore."

"Me too. For my younger brother, I mean. There's nothing I wouldn't do to keep him safe. That's what being the older one is all about, right?" Blake nodded. "Well, you should know we're not here to hurt you."

"Wild Child," Psyche interjected, stressing her name hard. "May I have a word with you?"

"Give us a minute?" she asked Blake and Elaine. They both nodded. Kit and Psyche walked into the next room for privacy.

"What are you doing?" Psyche asked in a clenched whisper.

"Defusing the situation. He was about to open fire on all of us to protect his sister," she shot back, her tone hot but quiet.

"We are not going to let this boy go. He burned down one building, who's to say he won't do it to more?"

"He's obviously desperate to take care of her."

"That does _not_ exempt him from the justice system."

"It doesn't have to, but taking him away from her is the wrong choice."

"We can't let him walk free."

"We have to. For her sake."

"No. It's too great of a risk."

"Why are you fighting so hard against this? This is a peaceful, safe solution."

"Because it isn't _justice_."

"Dragon would trust me on this."

Kit's words hit the air and instantly she wished she could take it back. She had seen how well he had reacted when Serenity had threatened Lance, so she knew it was a sore spot for him. But his demeanor shifted in response.

Psyche was tense in every sense of the word, and he shook visibly. But he kept still and silent once more. Then, he responded. "Ok," he replied. "Let's try things your way." Kit could see a deep sense of pain when she met eyes with him, but she felt she owed better to him than to push further. She had hit a sensitive spot once already.

She simply nodded agreeably and the two strode back into the room with the others. "Blake, you realize we can't allow you to keep the money you stole, right?"

Blake seemed to panic at that, shifting his gaze quickly back and forth among the Titans and Gordon.

"Relax. We aren't going to let you go hungry either. We have a home, and we'd like you to come stay with us for a while." Kit checked Psyche. If he had objected, he didn't show it. He'd made his face into a cool mask and didn't flinch at her words.

"Really?" Elaine asked, daring to venture out from behind Blake for the first time. Her small voice was weak, as if she'd been sick.

Kit nodded gently. "Yes. You won't have to live here anymore. Or starve. You'll be safe. And among friends."

It was Blake's turn to look incredulous, but his wariness was back. "Why? Why are you offering us all of this? Do we have to join your gang or something?"

Kit's heart felt another pang of pity for him. He must have truly been fighting all alone for her for a very long time. "Nothing." After a quick glance from Psyche, but only a glance, she amended it. "Nothing except that you don't break any laws while you're staying with us. Otherwise, you're free to leave whenever you wish and we won't stop you. I promise."

Blake's mouth formed into a grimace, he seemed to be thinking it over. She said nothing more and gave him some time.

"I have to give the money back?" he asked. Kit nodded, trying to seem regretful.

After another very long pause, he said, "Ok, we'll go with you."


	10. Chapter 9

Lance was floating in blackness again. Just like before, he was weightless in a featureless, infinite expanse. He cast a look around him and quickly realized he was dreaming. He imagined a floor below him and precisely as soon as he thought it, it came into being around him. That made sense to him. This was his dream, so it was pliable to his will.

He began to reshape the dream world around him. The black emptiness all around him turned to whiteness, as light seemed to come from everywhere. He liked the white better, he decided. He thought to look down at himself and in this dreamscape, he had no bullet wound in his thigh or pain left in his chest, even though the pain from his physical body would still be there, tugging at his consciousness.

He lifted off from the marble-like floor and began floating in a random direction. He wanted to see what kinds of things his mind could create with infinite space. A smile on his face, he flew over the ground and a thought occurred to him. He knew exactly what he wanted to do here in his mental sandbox.

He floated up what he estimated what would be 100 feet from the floor and stared intensely below him. The effort to drudge up the old memory was significant enough to take a few seconds work. Below him, Era City slowly rippled into existence, starting directly below him. After a few minutes, the whole city had been reconstructed and he started to lower back down to the street.

He was standing on the corner of an intersection familiar to him. Directly before him stood a glass store-front obstructed by long deep purple curtains that reached to the very top of the windows. It was his all-time favorite restaurant. In the real world, it had long since closed, being the victim of a kineticist, one of the city's most common plagues, real people endowed with elemental powers, however this particular kineticist had been extremely arrogant and hadn't cared when his powers completely demolished the whole place.

But here, in the dream world, it still stood. He could still return to it. It was strange, he thought, that despite his inheritance and his powers, there remained a great number of things he wished to do that he still lacked the ability to do. He smiled once more, simply taking in the sight of the familiar and cozy place. Then, he strode confidently through the front door.

Inside the little restaurant was dark and its atmosphere welcomed him. He had loved this place. When he had no one, he had this place to come and sit and enjoy a good sandwich and Italian soda. It was exactly as he had remembered it. The front counter stood to the left side of him, a bar counter that ran with the side wall there and then turned to his right and continued to the closest wall. Behind the counter sat his favorite barista.

She was a sandy-blonde girl around college age and she wore simple slacks and a fitting sweater, with a maroon apron draped over it. Her name tag read Nicole and she smiled as he came in. "Hello again, sugar baby," she said teasingly. His heart swelled at the sight of her. He hadn't seen her in years and even though it was only in his mind, it was good to hear her voice again.

Her nickname for the emancipated and financially setup young boy he had been had been 'sugar baby', both in reference to the candy and how he loved to tip her well. When Lance had been completely alone in the world, he knew he could come here and Nicole would smile and talk to him and be friendly. He regretted that after the shop had been forced to close, he had never seen her again to tell her how much she had helped him get through that time.

The broad grin on his face was completely genuine. "Nicole! It's so good to see you. May I have a turkey club and hazelnut soda?"

Nicole smiled in reply and nodded. "The usual, coming right up!" She disappeared to the kitchen area and Lance found a seat in his favorite nook in an overstuffed easy chair. Nicole brought his food and drink with a smile and left him to eat it.

The food was just as good in the dream as it had always been in reality. He closed his eyes and cherished the sensation of the not-quite-real food.

That was exactly when the dream turned into a nightmare.

A chilling voice came from right beside him. "Hello, my child…" it purred. The sound was like feline claws in Lance's ears. He flinched and recoiled as his eyes flew open.

The woman sitting in the chair next to him was as beautiful as she was terrifying. At least to Lance. Her skin was pale, but fair and nary a freckle marked her ivory beauty. Fuchsia eyes peered curiously at him, like the cheshire cat, and her smile revealed perfect, pearly-whites. Her hair was platinum blonde, almost to the point of pure whiteness, yet a tinge of pink showed like highlights in her flowing locks. Faerie glamour clung to her like stink on a garbage can. She was bright, beautiful, dressed a flowing white dress, exactly how he had last seen her.

Also in a dream, he remembered. Tension bunched up like cords in his neck and back and he wanted to jump out of his chair. "Travesty," he replied in a frigid tone. "Get the behind me, remember? This is my dream, so scram. You're not welcome here."

Travesty, ruined Fae and Lance's godmother, only smiled wider, showing her canines to him. "Child, I do not take orders from mortals. You are so cute when you attempt to intimidate."

That caught Lance off-guard. This was his head, his dream, his world. Why did she simply not disintegrate into mist on the wind, not to be seen again, when he commanded her to leave? Worry shook him into sinking back into the chair.

"Yes, you begin to understand. It is really I, Travesty, Prime Counselor of the Fae," she purred pridefully. "I have bridged the gap between my little demesne and your dream-world."

In a word, this was bad. Lance reeled through the implications of what was currently happening. If Travesty could appear in his dreams, and it was actually her and not his imagination of her, then his assumptions about her power were dead wrong.

The first thing he did was try to will himself awake. Nothing changed. He was still in the same place, and so was she. He concentrated harder on waking his body up, but still nothing happened. He cast an expectant look at her. A slight nod of her head confirmed his suspicions. He was stuck in this dream world with her for the time being.

He didn't like being a joke to her, so he turned the situation around on her. "You're not able to leave your pocket dimension. How the heck are you doing this?" he asked her sternly.

Travesty seemed amused by this question, even going so far as to let out a delighted giggle, as if she were a teenaged girl without a care in the world and not a legendary power in the supernatural world. "It isn't difficult. But if you really wish to know, you may bargain for that information. I would only ask twenty-four hours of servitude from you."

Lance knew that was a terrifically bad idea. A day of service to her would be a day without his free will, he would be her puppet and he would be reduced to spectating within his own body while she did whatever she pleased with it. Including killing anyone she wanted. That kind of thing was _not going to happen_.

"Let's try this again," Lance said, not amused. "Why are you here? What in goodness name do you want?"

"Ah, now that is a good question. And one I will answer for free," his godmother replied, whimsy lilting in her tone. "As your godmother, it is my responsibility to help guide you in matters of the soul. And warn you when there is a threat to it."

"Yeah, I bet you're here out of the goodness of your heart. Oh, wait, you actually don't have one, do you?" he snarled.

She seemed bemused by his belligerence but she did not stop tempo to address it. "Now, now, don't be like that. I really do care what happens to you." He quirked one eyebrow at her but didn't retort. "It is time you learned more about the method I chose when granting you your powers."

That really got Lance's attention. If Travesty was telling the truth, which he could never be quite sure about, when it came to her. The best course of action with her advice was to take it with a grain of salt while remembering her exact choice of words. He had learned Faeries, at least his godmother, could be true to the letter of what they said, but the spirit could vary wildly.

He thought back to when she had ceremoniously granted him the powers of a dragon. Flight. Strength. Fire-breathing, and later, full pyrokinesis. If something about that was important now, it would be best to try to extract whatever information she held, and if he could manage it, wring more knowledge from her than what he gave. He gave her a small, capitulatory nod. He would hear her out, but be on his guard for misinformation.

"Good to see you exercise some sense, godchild. The matter concerns the source of the draconic power you were bestowed. Long ago, before the rule of the Faeries in the immortal realms, the lands were ruled by the World Drake Triumvirate. They were the ultimate authority in the realms."

Lance felt his jaw fall open, despite himself. Was she really going where he thought she was?

Travesty continued as if she had not noticed. "The Drake relative to this discussion is Y'ggdrasil, the Drake of Flame."

"Y'ggdrasil? Isn't that the world-tree in Norse mythology?"

"Do you really think a being the ultimate power would allow their true name to become known among lesser powers, much less mortals? Do you really believe my true name is what you call me?"

That made Lance think for a moment. He hadn't considered the possibility that immortals would use psuedonyms. Interesting. If even they had need of a secret identity, that meant knowing a being's true name would be a sort of leverage against them. Lance didn't understand the specifics, he couldn't even fathom them, but it seemed that without knowing it, Travesty had slipped up and given him knowledge he didn't have before. He was one-nothing against her. He truly wanted to keep it that way. So he nodded as if accepting the concept at face value.

Travesty returned to her story. "At the end of the Age of the Drakes, I became the steward of one of his scales. Payment for a favor given. I did not conjure your power out of thin air. Your power came from that scale."

Lance truly reeled back now. The source of his power was an immortal who had ruled long before the Fae had come to power? That instantly made him wary. It didn't click. Why on earth would Travesty have granted him his powers from a source more deep than she? Something in this puzzle was missing. But he said nothing and let her continue.

"I thought the dying Drake to be an old fool, close to death. Y'ggdrasil turned out to be more crafty than I had ever imagined. Within his scale lay a shade of him, a copy of his soul, if you will."

"Wait, you're saying old Yiggy left his ghost on his scale?"

"Dear child, don't interrupt," she said saccharinely. "Upon the scale, lay an enchantment to preserve a small fraction of his power and spirit until I made use of the it. When I did, and granted you the powers you now wield, the shade accompanied the power it brought into your soul."

Lance let his eyes bolt wide open now. "I have a ghost of a dragon in my soul?"

"_Godchild, please,_" she hissed through clenched teeth, showing the first sign of any real emotion yet. "That spirit was tied to the power, there was no way to separate it from the power. I had no choice but to let it into you, where it has been hiding away in quiet plotting for three years now."

As she spoke, she waved a hand at another nearby chair. Between both of their pairs of legs, directly across from that point, another plush, comfortable chair sat. In it materialized a body.

Red scales were the first thing Lance saw. The man had bright scarlet scales all over his body, like a snake's skin. Second, Lance noticed the horns. He had curved bone-horns also of red about 3 or so inches long protruding out of his forehead and reaching up towards his hairline. Behind him in the chair were large scaly wings, tipped at the top with more pointed bone. His hair and eyes were a bright shade of crimson. He was dressed in a black tank top and baggy red jeans. He was built strongly, with plenty of upper-body muscle. And as far as his face and the human portions of his body went, he looked _exactly_ like Lance.

Lance's red, draconic doppleganger sat across from him eyeing him eagerly.

"My godchild, meet the shade. Shade, my godchild," Travesty said by way of explanation.

Lance stared in shock at the figure seated across from him. If it was true, that meant Y'ggdrasil's shade had been sharing his body ever since Travesty had granted him his powers. Ever since the day before his parents had been murdered.

It was unlikely that Lance had been completely unaffected by the spirit's presence. Why else would it never have made itself known before now? His thoughts turned to Travesty's motivation for telling him this. If it was a misleading falsehood, he could understand that planting doubt in his mind would be a sound tactic. If it was all true, however…

No matter what, she must have had a solid reason for doing this now. Faeries, especially ones who had once been second-in-command of all the Fae, didn't do anything without thinking it all the way through. He needed to know what her angle was, which meant he was going to have to play her game.

Lance eyed his double warily but the figure said nothing. Instead it smiled sinisterly at him, its red eyes hungry. He looked away and to Travesty instead.

"You're just now telling me this? I don't get it, what do you get for hiding this for so long?" he asked aggressively.

For the first time during this meeting, Travesty appeared truly displeased. Her mouth settled into a straight line and her eyebrows came together over narrowed eyelids. "As I said, it is my responsibility to look after your immortal soul. The shade shares your soul, granting you great power. With that power, it has great influence over you. By making you aware of it, it may no longer hide from you. I am doing you a favor, godchild."

Her annoyed tone hadn't quite hidden her use of the word 'favor'. Lance was well aware of how the concepts of debt and payment functioned among the Fae. He narrowed his own eyes. "I need no such favors from you, godmother," he said, placing such strong venom in the final word.

"Insolent child. Do not be blind," she spat. "It is capable of manipulating you. Do you not see?"

Lance decided to try a different angle to pry more information from her. "The same could be said of you. What have you to gain from all of this? I doubt your ilk knows anything of true compassion for mere mortals like me."

Half a second later, Travesty was standing before him, with his chin in her petite but firm hand and he found that he could not move to leave her grip. She pointed his face up at her. He refused to look away, or to be intimidated.

She leaned in close to his face and hissed, "Do not forget your mortal lineage is bound to me, boy. You yet owe me a debt and I will see it repaid. For my own benefit, I see fit to preserve you. Do not make me reconsider my foolishness."

She released his face and he could suddenly move again.

She had such power even within his own mind. It surprised and unnerved him. She could have even more leverage into his mind if she felt the need so Lance found it wise to stop pressing. He had learned quite a bit already, anyway. There was no sense in risking everything for more.

Travesty retook her seat and out of his periphery, he could swear the shade was chuckling silently. But he didn't dare remove his gaze from her. She seemed composed again but Lance knew that anger would be bubbling under the surface for quite a while.

She cast her eyes back to him and the two stared at each other for a long moment. Finally, she spoke. "I have prepared a spell to assist you as well, godchild. If you are all done objecting to every little thing."

He tried to look unamused, but it was hard to keep his poker face under the pressure of her gaze. He hoped that he held it together. Regardless, she continued after he remained silent. "Good. It has become evident that this wyrm's influence has swayed your emotions from time to time. I have prepared a spell that will prevent it from exercising that power over you anymore."

"What if I decline?" Lance asked. He didn't want Travesty, under any circumstances, to work anymore magic on him. Her magic had already caused enough trouble.

"Then you and I will stay here in this imaginary world for the rest of time. I cannot leave until you wake and you cannot wake unless I will it. We will both be trapped here inside your mind for eternity."

Darn, she drove a hard bargain. He couldn't accept giving up his role in the real world. The Titans were the only way to eventually beat her. He had to play the long game and focus on his end-goals.

"Then I have little choice but to accept. Do it quickly and let's be done," he said, trying to sound more annoyed than nervous. The truth was the magnitude of what she was about to do was almost as bad as letting her simply keep him trapped here in his own mind forever. It was a serious case of the lesser of two evils.

"Very well. Remain still while I prepare the spell and this will go faster."

Lance did as he was told, though he didn't have to be happy about it, and so he wasn't.

Travesty closed her eyes and began moving her lips but no sound emerged from them. Lance chanced a look at the dragonling shade. His red orbs were upon Travesty as well, so he returned his gaze to her as well.

After a moment, she opened her eyes again, spoke a quiet word in a long-dead language and held up her hands, as if she were blowing dust into the wind. He felt pressure in his chest, around his heart. He also felt an immaterial change, something not physical being altered.

She lowered her hands to her lap, the spell completed. "What did you do?" he asked.

"I have placed an impenetrable barrier around your heart. It will safeguard you from the shade's more subtle influences. Be careful, because now it must speak to you to influence you."

"I have much experience in that field," he said snarkily.

"You are not as funny as you perceive yourself to be," she replied. "As I was saying, do not be swayed by its whisperings. Also, when you awake, take some time to get used to the change." As she spoke that last sentence, her mouth turned up into a smug smirk.

"Wait, what?" he asked, but the dream world was already swirling away from him and he was rising through the deep darkness once more, alone.


End file.
